Stay

By Jackie Walton

Roth rescued her from bandits but wouldn't stay at her father's estate. Called to court by the Queen, Dania found her rescuer to be the newly-crowned King. Roth wanted her and didn't accept denial. Thrust into the world of royal intrigue, Dania must fight her way through pain, heart break, and danger to save herself and those she loves.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Jackie Walton
• Release date: Sep 10, 2018
• ISBN: 9780463553145

Jackie Walton

After growing up in the San Francisco Bay Area and marrying my high school sweetheart, we became what Alvin Toffler called "corporate gypsies." We've lived in a number of states and countries, including Italy, and have visited a lot of places, some of which show up in my stories. I'm a retired high school science teacher with degrees in English and psychology. (Those two and $4 will get you a good cup of coffee!) I've always loved history, though, as you might guess from the last chapter of my books. That's what happens when you mix a teacher with a self-professed history geek. We are once again back in the Bay Area with our long, tall Pole of a dog.

Book preview

Chapter 1

A glorious early summer day, Dania thought as she and her escort, Arvid, rode briskly along the road to Ravol, the next town up the main road from her father’s estate. It was beautiful, except that it was outrageously hot. Fluffy lambs’ wool clouds overhead did nothing to cool things. The dark clouds in the distance promised some relief, just not right now. Trust Nel to have her baby on the hottest day of the year. This pregnancy had not gone well for Nel so Dania grabbed her supply bag and ordered her horse saddled. Arvid, the father-to-be, kept urging her faster, almost beside himself with worry. There’s plenty of time, Arvid. First babies always take their time. Arvid had galloped to fetch her, so they needed to be careful not to strain his mount.

She kept the pace brisk but still waved to Ymir and his wife as they worked in the fields. A cheery pair of waves returned her way, but she didn't stop to talk as she might have if time was not a factor.

The air was sweet and crisp with only the faintest tang of wood smoke lingering in the air from a cottage in the distance.

At first Arvid chattered constantly in her ear, describing every twinge and contraction his wife had gone through. She'd nodded and murmured at each grueling detail. Dania smiled to herself. This was definitely his first child. He would be an excellent father. Right now, he was just a nervous one. He'd recounted every pain and now fell into an uneasy silence.

Less than a mile from their destination, they entered a heavily forested area. Dania needed no urging to pick up the pace. This part of the road had a number of turns where…

Four armed men surged out of the bushes on the side of the road.

Hand down your valuables, the leader demanded. He, like the others, wore filthy rags. A disreputable hat covered stringy, brown hair, and his jacket featured rips and tears. Rotted teeth showed as he spoke.

Dania’s horse, highly bred and used to respectful treatment, reared and screamed when the leader’s rough hands tried to haul in her bridle. Damn nag, the one trying to grab Dania hissed.

Dania tried to use his obvious inexperience against him and urged the beast to further shenanigans. Arvid’s plow horse knew no such capers, standing stock still while two men pulled him from its back. One of the men put a knife to his throat.

Don’t want no blood spilt, now, do we’s? The robber holding her horse’s reins jerked his head to the side and grinned evilly up at her. The other man took the reins from him. The horse snorted and shook her head. Grabbing Dania’s wrist, the leader hauled. Kicking free of the side saddle’s stirrup to prevent a broken leg, she slid off her mount. A filthy arm snaked around her waist.

Fetid breath gusted in her ear. The arm around her waist squeezed a little tighter. Yer gonna make a tasty morsel tonight.

Dania froze. Nothing like this had ever happened to her or anyone she knew.

Ye had t’ last mort first, Kennet. Ah wants this one first.

Shut yer trap, Faas. Ye'll take whats left and be thankful Ah share at all.

Share! Dania thought. They weren't going to share her, not if she could help it. Anger brewed like a witch’s cauldron.

Biting her lip helped to focus her anger, clarify her thoughts. Her captor must not have seen the knife on her right hip since he pulled her off the horse from the left. She wasn’t helpless, but she certainly didn’t have the upper hand.

Chapter 2

Around the corner, pounding hooves heralded new players on the game board. Three mounted men charged, swords waving. Her captor shoved a knife at her throat.

Come on ye plaguy bastards! Come any closer, and Ah’ll slit her throat.

The lead horseman on a showy black signed a halt to his companions. They drew up in a rough line across the road. Release the woman and her manservant, and I might let you live. The voice, deep and cultured, rang with authority. Backlit against the morning sun, Dania couldn’t see his face clearly.

Fuck you and your horse! She’s my prize. Now get out, or Ah cuts her to pieces.

Dania slowly reached into the leather scabbard hanging from her belt. She slipped the knife from its scabbard on her right hip. She saw the horseman glance over at it as he shifted his horse to the side.

He shrugged. His face, looking like it was carved from granite, showed no emotion. A smile played on his lips but didn’t reach his eyes. I care not what happens to the wench. I do care that you’re blocking my way.

As soon as he finished, she slashed blindly backwards, not caring what she hit, so long as she hit something. She did.

The bandit shrieked and partially released her. Damn bitch!

Warm blood flooded across her hand. She dropped to the ground, one wrist still in his painful grasp.

The horseman surged forward, and the thief fell with his head hanging by a flap of skin. Blood spattered Dania’s gown as she pulled away, still crouched on the round. Out of the corner of her eye she could see Arvid grappling with one of the men. The horseman turned to dispatch the thief holding her horse’s reins. The villain holding Arvid’s horse screeched, Pa! and released the reins to run over. A sword in his chest was his last sight. The last one released his hold on Arvid and dropped to his knees. Mercy, mercy! They made me come with them. I wasn’t gonna hurt anybody, leastways Lady Dania.

The leader jerked his head. Dania cried, No, but he died, too. Why did you do that? He was just a foolish boy. She rose stiffly, almost as if from a nightmare. The men dismounted.

He was a brigand and received a brigand’s fate, the leader stated as he wiped his sword’s blade on her former captor’s clothes. His voice was deep and brooked no argument.

Arvid, shaking visibly and looking askance at the armed men, hurried up to Dania. My lady, are you unharmed? He was going to…to…

I’m fine, Arvid. She turned to their rescuers. Gentlemen, I am Lady Dania of Oakfield, and I am eternally grateful for your assistance. However, we are on a mission to assist a new life, and time is precious. If you would continue down the road, she pointed to where she’d come from, you will come to my father’s estate at Oakfield. Tell him of what transpired and that Arvid and I are whole. I’m sure he will wish to express his gratitude. We must continue on our mission.

Doffing his hat, the leader bowed. His men, after a moment, followed suit. Your service has been our pleasure, Lady Dania. I am Lord Roth of…Seibo and my companions, Lord Kort and Lord Vidar. He looked pointedly at each man as he named them. As to your instructions, I’m afraid we must decline. Kort will continue on to your father’s house to tell him of the circumstances of our meeting. Vidar and I will escort you to your goal.

But…

I insist.

Everything female responded to the gleam in his eyes. Now that her nerves settled somewhat, she could appreciate what a good-looking man he was. His sandy blond hair, ruffled from the ride and the fight, fell into a soldier’s cut, straight just below the ear. Her brother had a similar style. Not the long, flowing locks of a courtier for either one of them. Tall, over six feet, he towered over her, even though she was tall for a woman. His clothes held the dirt of long travel, but their excellent quality showed through the dust. Leather knee boots and a soft red cap with a long feather completed his garb.

The one he introduced as Kort remounted his horse and continued in the direction down the road. Much shorter than Roth, his hair resembled a lit torch when he removed his hat, it was so blond. His longish face had a certain softness to it until you looked into his blue eyes. They were mellow and smiling when he bowed to her. They were hard as ice when he fought.

Vidar stood in between his comrades in height. His sleepy brown eyes and full lips, as well as the almost-black hair falling around his face gave him the look of a long-haired dog, not a lap dog.

Roth finished cleaning his sword on the clothes of the dead man. He smiled to himself as he nodded farewell to Kort. This trip might prove to be less of a God-awful bore than it had been so far. Despite the title of Lady, neither her clothes nor her horse bespoke wealth or power. He’d never heard of Oakfield.

Slender, but not thin, she had dark brown hair peaking from her white wool peasants’ cap. Her clothes looked like she’d been working in the fields. Still, she might be amusing.

After all, Father always said he should take the pulse of the people. It would serve as an excellent excuse for a detour, even if it was only two days from home.

Allow me to assist you, my lady, he murmured with a smile. Holding her by the waist, he lifted her easily into the saddle.

She drew in a breath as she said, Thank you. Not cool to him at all, he thought. Good. He nodded to Vidar to take point and fell in beside her.

Straight on, she said. We must hurry.

Talk proved difficult at the brisk canter she set, so he held his peace until they arrived at a moderately prosperous-looking peasant’s cottage. She dismounted without assistance, something no true lady would do. He followed her inside.

A young woman lay on the bed, restless and sweating with an enormous belly on her. Thank God you’ve come, Lady Dania.

I’m here in good time, Nel. Looks like you were right, Arvid. Let me make you more comfortable, Nel. Arvid, bring…

Roth possessed no wish to witness a peasant birth. He slipped outside to wait. How long did babies’ birthings take, anyway?

He sat on the end of an open-ended cart. After a moment’s thought he instructed Vidar to ride back to Roth’s father. Report on the mission and inform the old man I’ll be staying a few days to ‘assess the temperament of the people’ as he always wants.

Do you wish me to leave now, my lord?

Hum, no, escort us to her home and then go. We must preserve the proprieties, at least for the moment.

Vidar smiled. Very good, my lord.

Dania stepped out of the cottage, rubbing the small of her back. Mercifully it was a quick delivery, especially for a first baby; that didn’t make it easier, just quicker.

Arvid hurried out the door to clasp her hands. Thank you, my lady. Thank you for my daughter!

Dania gripped his hands. Don’t thank me, thank Nel. She did all the hard work. I just played catcher. Go take care of them.

Arvid hurried back in the house, and Dania made her way to her horse. Blinking, she stared at the two strange men lounging near the barn. Memory flashed. Gentlemen, you did not need to wait for me.

Of course, we did, Lady Dania, the one called Vidar said. However, we’d best be leaving soon or risk a severe soaking. The fluffy clouds now looked dark and ominous.

The one called Roth merely smiled and again lifted her into the saddle as effortlessly as if she were a child. They started off at a goodly clip, keeping an eye on the looming clouds and sheets of rain in front of them. Conversation proved impossible over the sound of the pounding hooves and the rain and thunder facing them. A few drops splattered on their faces before the heavens opened up on them.

They urged their horses into a gallop. Dania loved the rain, and she laughed, grinning at Roth. He grinned back. Shortly, the landmarks of home passed alongside them.

Almost there, Roth heard her above the torrent. He did admit her horse could move, despite being one of the homelier beasts he’d ever seen. Her laugh and joyous smile, all while they pounded through the deluge, fascinated him. Few, no none, of the ladies he knew would react so. No, they would be fuming that their gowns and hair were sodden wrecks. Of course, this wench’s simple skirt and bodice covered by a shawl would weather the wet. Her hair, a long dark braid covered by a simple cap, would do likewise.

He glanced up, expecting to see a modest dwelling, perhaps typical of a landed knight, something that would grant her the title of Lady and yet reflect her clothes and horse and personal attention to the lower orders.

A wall with a moat around it rose in front of them. The gate keeper waved and hauled up the iron portcullis. She waved back, and they passed through. A fortified house, a small castle greeted them. Four turrets graced the corners. The bottom floor was solid stone but the uppers had leaded glass in the windows, currently being closed by ponderously moving metal shutters, around the structure, showing that its defensive functions had given way to esthetic ones. A chapel stood to one side of the house and a stable to the other. More outbuildings peeked from the sides. Stable hands rushed out as they arrived at the door of the house.

He was impressed in spite of himself. This was no poverty-stricken, puffed up lordling. He supposed the good condition of the peasants’ holdings should have clued him into the state of things.

Lady Dania, Lady Dania, a stable hand called. Thank God ye’re alright. We heard tell of a bandit attack.

Yes, it’s true. These gentlemen, she gestured to Vidar and himself, were God-sends. Take extra good care of their mounts, please.

The stableman had the audacity of grinning at him and tipping his cap. Ah’ll be treating ‘em like me own children.

Lady Dania laughed and dismounted with another’s help. Inside, a butler-type in elegant, but subdued, livery approached her. Thank God, thank God you’re safe, my lady.

We’re all fine, Sture. Arvid and Nel have a beautiful baby girl, and the only damage is a little wetting. Please see to our guests’ comfort and dry clothes before my father goes into his protective parent dance.

The man’s eyes twinkled in what was obviously an old joke, but he bowed them to a side stairway. This way, gentlemen.

Dania watched Roth take off his riding gloves as he moved toward the stairs. They fit him like a second skin. He loosened the finely crafted leather off each finger with deliberate, familiar pulls. Those ten tugs pulled at something deep inside her. She felt a pang of disappointment when he tucked the gloves under his belt.

A groom grabbed Roth’s stallion’s reins and yanked him towards the stable. The horse tossed his head and stamped his forelegs in protest at the cavalier treatment. Quick as a whip, Roth pulled the gloves from his belt and slapped the groom with them.

That horse is undoubtedly worth more than you are, he snarled. Treat him with respect.

The groom gaped at him before bobbing his head and gently leading the horse away.

Dania frowned at the harsh treatment of her people, but she let it pass as his concern for his horse.

Before the butler left them, he led the two men to an upstairs chamber with a hip bath already being filled with hot water by a maid. They began to remove their wet clothes. The butler returned with an armful of clothes. Studying their frames with an appraising eye, he said, My lords, I’m afraid these garments may not be up to your usual standards, but they are clean and dry and will do until we can get yours laundered. I will personally see to your boots. He gathered the footwear. When you have bathed and dressed, the Great Hall is back down the stairs and to your right. Take your time, please. I will send your companion to you. Is there anything else you require?

Vidar said, No.

The butler bowed and went to the door where he hesitated. Let me add my personal thanks for your help. Lady Dania is very precious to us. He left.

Vidar picked up a tunic from the pile. He was right when he said the clothes weren’t up to our usual.

In borrowed finery the three men headed down to the hall. Kort, who had just made his way to them, murmured, Lord Henning has been mentally pacing the floor since my arrival. Only my personal pledge of the daughter’s well-being of person and virtue calmed him, somewhat. Vidar snickered. Perhaps I should not have vouchsafed her virtue.

Roth snorted. Perhaps not.

They were smiling when they entered the hall. Roth took a quick look around. It was not a magnificent hall, he thought, but it held its own as an ancient and noble structure. Preparations for the evening meal bustled around them as they made their way to Lord Henning in front of the great stone fireplace. Servants arranged the trestle tables in front of the main table. Tablecloths covered some while others awaited them. Several braces of unlit candles and small vases of flowers (Flowers! he thought.) anticipated their placement on the tables. Though not as large as some halls, his father’s for a prime example, it was cozy and cheery with tapestries lining the walls. Even the servants seemed…cheery. What was the world coming to? Cheery servants.

Roth frowned as Lord Henning struggled to stand as they approached. He was an older man, Roth thought, but not as elderly as his actions indicated.

Papa, what are you doing? Dania’s voice rang out from behind them as she hurried to her father.

Rising to greet our guests who did me the great favor of saving my daughter. Irritation and affection mingled in his words. What does it look like I’m doing?

As the blanket fell from the older man’s lap, Roth could see that the chair had wheels on it.

Well, they will just have to accept your thanks from your chair. I’m sure they will understand. She came into the light of the fire and gently guided him back to the seat.

Roth swept a bow and his friends followed suit. Lord Henning, please be at ease. No special thanks are necessary, I assure you. We thoroughly enjoyed a little exercise after a rather boring trip. It was our great pleasure to assist your daughter in a small way.

None the less, Lord Henning said as he waved them to other chairs set around the fire. He grimaced as he shifted on the cushion. I still owe you three a great debt of gratitude. Please, be seated.

Still standing, Roth’s attention divided between Lord Henning and his daughter. The poor Lady, one step above a milk maid, blossomed into a beauty fit to grace any court in the land. Her green brocaded gown had braided trim around the square neckline. He thought that he’d seen lower necklines on nuns, but he found himself salivating over the treasures it concealed. The split overskirt revealed an embroidered kirtle. Her sleeves, full and folded back, showed that same material. A locket hung on a gold chain around her neck.

My Lady, it is truly a pleasure to meet you. He bowed.

Dinner will be ready shortly, gentlemen. Cook wanted to do something special for you.

I am looking forward to tasting all the special things available here.

Dania couldn’t quite figure out why her father frowned at Lord Roth’s words. The man was just being polite, edged with a bit of flattery. She only hoped she’d controlled her cursed blushes when he addressed her. It could be very trying to wear one’s heart on one’s sleeve, or in this case, one’s face. Sture’s announcement of dinner interrupted her self-criticisms. She sat them at the head table according to precedence, with Roth between her father and herself.

Cook outdid herself. The lamb exceeded all expectations, even with the flavoring of a discussion of the atrocious weather. Through the other courses, conversation ranged around the table.

While Vidar entertained her father with a tale of Lord Something-or-Other’s encounter with an irate deer, Roth turned to face her. I must protest that you presented yourself falsely today, Lady Dania.

She thought his voice caressed her name, but no. She was creating pictures with clouds. They’d only met a few hours ago. Any attraction she felt was one of those cloud pictures, just as pretty and just as ephemeral, a product of her imagination and her own spinster state. How so, my lord?

I thought I met a peasant woman on a legless nag this morning. Your horse moves like the wind, and you put a butterfly to shame.

That darned blush again! I fear I was working in my garden this morning, hoping to get things done before the heat and storm hit. I was not exactly dressed for company.

Whatever your garb, you are a lovely spring flower. He took her hand and bowed over it, brushing her fingers with his lips.

Dania blushed again and smiled until she glanced up to see her father frowning again over Roth’s head. She pulled her hand away. "Very pretty, my lord.

As to my horse, I helped at his birth. He’s not beautiful as horses go, but he is my pet. She grinned. And he does fly, doesn’t he?

Roth spent most of his time watching her, listening to her, making her feel like she was the only person in the world. Horses, crops, even the new baby peppered the topics he brought up.

Lord Henning interrupted their tête-à-tête. Do you know the status of the trade negotiations with Genoa, my lord?

The last I heard, Genoa’s ambassador was ready to sign the agreement.

What kind of duties will there be for our exports? Dania asked.

Roth nodded at her but addressed his host. From what I recall…

Lord Henning pointed his chin at his daughter. She’s the one who keeps track of that sort of thing. More of a head for it than I have. Done right well for us, she has.

Roth arched his brows at her. Indeed?

We raise sheep.

And spin fine yarn, dye it, full it, and weave much of it, her father added.

Roth leaned back in his chair as he studied her. You have many hidden depths, my lady. I would be pleased to see these operations.

Darn that blush! If the weather permits tomorrow, we can inspect some of the procedures.

The servants began clearing the trestle tables and hauling them away. Across the way, in a secluded corner, musicians arrived with their instruments.

Come, Lord Henning commanded as he pushed his wheeled chair away from the table. Let us find seats nearer the fire. My old bones grow cold in the evenings.

The musicians struck up a lively tune, and courtiers filled the floor with dancing bodies. Roth grabbed her hand and dragged her from her chair. Come. From his grip and his tone, he would brook no refusal. So, she danced.

She danced until she thought her feet would fall off. The musicians played the Lavolta which had everyone leaping and twisting. They alternated that with the Jig with its lively steps, and the equally energetic Galliard.

All the while he smiled and touched and complimented and, when the steps brought them together for more than a moment, he said things like Your gown is exquisite, but it pales in comparison to the form it graces. More blushes! Finally,