Master at Arms (Dragon Knights #2.5) Page 3

  Sir Golgorath would be their guest for a few days and she would be able to look at him and help him, if he was receptive to her offer of assistance. She didn’t want to overstep the bounds of hospitality. Dragons were said to be sticklers for manners and she intended to be on her best behavior while the fierce dragon was in residence.

  Now she just had to figure out a way to do all this without Envard butting his big nose in. Since their father died, her brother had become a real stick in the mud. He’d been fun before, but lately…

  It wasn’t worth worrying about, Cara decided as her favorite mare brought her through the gates of the keep at a fast gallop. She only slowed when they neared the stables, which was close enough to where she wanted to go that she vaulted from the saddle, calling for help from the nearest stable hands. They set about a multitude of tasks at her direction so the dragon would be comfortable here while he healed.

  By the time Sir Golgorath limped in some minutes later, the dragoness Rohtina at his side, things were as organized as she could get them on such short notice. She ran over to the walking dragons, stopping several yards before them and making her bow.

  “Sir and lady, if you will follow me, I think we have an area set up that you will like.”

  Without comment, the weary dragon followed her. Lady Rohtina accompanied him, craning her long neck to look all around the keep. Cara had no doubt the dragoness’s sharp, jewel-like eyes took in the damage the keep had suffered in recent battles. Cara hoped she would not hold battle damage against them. The keep had been lovely once upon a time, but recent events had been hard on both the place and its inhabitants.

  She pushed aside the dark thoughts as she led the way to the enclosure she had rigged for the dragon. It was well away from the stable and the all-too-flammable hayloft. It was a corner nook formed by the stone wall of the keep and another stone wall that stood at a right angle. Behind that inner wall were the bakery ovens. That wall radiated warmth from the ovens, in which fires were kept banked at all times and whipped up to full blast before dawn. In the summer, the stone helped dissipate the heat, but in winter, the area was enclosed to form a warm place for guardsmen to shelter on breaks from the cold duty of standing watch on the walls.

  Lady Cara had organized the stable lads to remove the rough furniture the Guardsmen used and to sweep the packed dirt floor clear of any debris. She had then sent a few of them to cut fragrant young pine boughs to cover the floor. He would probably enjoy their clean scent and could possibly build a nest for himself of the soft green boughs that would not burn easily. She left the canvas roof in place. It was high enough that the dragon would not have to stoop to enter and low enough to help keep in some of the warmth.

  The front of the enclosure was usually left open except in the worst of winter weather, but Cara had asked the lads to rig up the heavy fabric that could be used to give the dragon some privacy. She had even devised a knotted rope looped through a pulley that the dragon could operate himself to open and close the heavy curtain.

  She’d also had a bathtub brought in a filled with clear water from the well so the dragon would not have to go far if he wanted a drink. A crate of apples had been put next to the water, in case he wanted a sweet snack.

  Cara reached the enclosure first and pulled back the heavy curtain. “I wasn’t sure what you might like, but I hope this meets at least some of your needs, Flightmaster Golgorath,” she said as the dragon’s neck craned past her to inspect the area.

  Just then, the blue-green dragon she’d seen earlier caused a stir by landing inside the keep’s walls. Both Golgorath and Rohtina paused to look, as did every being inside the keep’s protective walls. The newly arrived dragon landed lightly, touching down with one back foot first while he backwinged to a neat, gentle landing. A moment later, two men jumped down from his back.

  It was Sir Gareth and Sir Lars. They walked right up to the curtain and into the enclosure, taking a look around.

  “This is good. Really good, Lady Cara,” Sir Gareth said, taking in her preparations with an approving glance. “You seem to have thought of everything and it’s nice and warm in here.” He cocked a questioning eyebrow in her direction.

  “The baking ovens are on the other side of this wall.” She patted the stone nearest her. “I thought perhaps Flightmaster Golgorath would enjoy the heat.”

  “Dragons produce quite a bit of their own heat, but they enjoy warmth from the outside,” Lars confirmed in a quiet voice. He wasn’t as gregarious as his fighting partner, but he was efficient and friendly enough.

  “Lars will stay to help get him settled while I go back to the Lair and get our mate. She is a healer and may be able to help speed Flightmaster Rath’s recovery.”

  “What about his knight?” Cara asked quietly, following as Gareth pulled her to one side while Lars helped settle the injured dragon into the enclosure.

  “Sir Rath isn’t partnered at the moment,” Gareth explained as they walked toward the blue-green dragon who was waiting nearby.

  “Oh.” Cara was surprised. She hadn’t realized unpartnered dragons also lived in Lairs, but she probably should have thought about it. Where else would they live? “If he needs anything, I will be nearby. All the resources of the keep—such as they are—are at his disposal.”

  “I’ll tell him. Thank you, Lady Cara. Your preparations are much more than any of us expected. You seem to have thought of everything he’ll need for the moment. Now it will just take time—and perhaps the attentions of my wife, Belora, who will be able to help him as few others can.”

  “Then may I invite you and your lady to stay to dinner with us in the hall after she sees to Flightmaster Golgorath? It won’t be grand, mind you, but we’ll do the best we can to honor those who have helped us so greatly this day.”

  “I am honored, Lady Cara, but my wife might be too tired after the healing session. We will have to wait and see.”

  That was interesting. The lady must be a true healer if she gave of her own energy in healing. Cara had heard of such, and had seen it only one time in her life. It was a rare thing. A magical thing.

  “I understand,” Cara replied as Sir Gareth climbed aboard the dragon’s back. “Fair winds to you both. We will await your return and keep the fires lit on the walls, should you arrive back here after dark.”

  “My thanks many times over, Lady Cara. We will return soon.”

  She stood back as the dragon moved a few yards away to a clear spot. He leapt into the air and winged away, a majestic sight against the afternoon sky. Cara glanced toward the enclosure, but the curtain was down, Lady Rohtina sitting in front of it as if on guard duty. Cara decided to leave the dragons be for the moment. She had preparations to make inside the keep, just in case the knights and their lady decided to join them for dinner.

  She also had to get out of her armor and hide it before Envard got a look at her. With any luck, nobody would tell him what she’d been up to for the past few hours.

  Tristan watched Lady Cara disappear up the back stairs into the keep. The new Master at Arms couldn’t help following her with his gaze, even though he knew he should not. She was a fine lady, for all that she took up arms in her people’s defense. While some might foolishly think such behavior was unladylike, Tristan silently applauded her willingness to defend her home with every skill she could bring to bear.

  She was a fair swordswoman. Tristan would not have let her anywhere near the front lines if she weren’t. He probably should have kept her farther from the action than he had, but Tristan couldn’t seem to deny her anything. All Lady Cara had to do was look at him with those clear blue eyes of hers, and he would give her the moon if she asked.

  He was smitten. Well and truly under her spell. They’d shared one amazing, never-to-be-repeated, tempestuous night together when he had first arrived at the keep…before he knew who she was.

  When he’d found out she was the daughter of the lord he had contracted to serve, he’d nearly had a fit. Remorse and
guilt ate at him. He’d been hired to safeguard the lord, his family and his keep. And on his first night behind the security of the keep’s stone walls, he’d seduced the daughter of the house—though he hadn’t realized until later.

  It was his dishonor. A shame he would have to live with, even as he remembered the most amazing night of his life. Tristan had bedded many women in his past, but none could compare with the lovely Cara. She was the light in his darkness, the sun in his sky. And he feared he would be in love with her for the rest of his life.

  He had hurt her that night, when she’d finally revealed her true identity. That was another regret in a long line of them that night. He had not meant to be so brutal with his words, but he’d been shocked by her deception.

  Tristan had wrongly thought the daughter of the house must be a child. When he’d met with old Lord Harald, he’d described her as a young maiden, but the woman who’d come so willingly to his bed that night was mature and utterly lovely. So sure of herself. So strong willed and fiery.

  He had met her in the soldiers’ practice yard, going through sword drills with some of the younger men at arms. Tristan had admired her skill and willingness to teach what she knew to those who needed to learn it. Tristan had joined the small, impromptu class, helping the swordswoman learn a few things as well, and when she’d suggested sharing an evening meal, he’d agreed readily.

  The private meal had surprised him, but he was new not only to this keep but this land as well, and he’d enjoyed the quiet moment with the lovely swordswoman. She had seemed surprised when he’d made advances, but after only a slight hesitation, she’d joined with him wholeheartedly.

  He would always remember the way she had touched him. She’d seemed hesitant about some things but willing to learn what he liked as he learned the secrets of her body. She’d been adventurous and playful, trying things he had not expected.

  When she’d taken his hard cock in her mouth, he’d nearly jumped out of his skin. Her mouth haunted him to this day. The memory of the pleasure she’d brought him would be with him all his life. Never had anything felt so right.

  And when he’d slipped into her welcoming sheath, she surrounded him with her warmth and the tight clenching of her inner muscles that drove him wild. He’d been out of control, but thankfully she’d met him move for move. Her sleek, muscular body had been a temptation and delight beyond measuring as her strong limbs clutched him to her beautiful body.

  He’d ridden her hard, bringing them both pleasure before collapsing at her side. Moments later, she’d teased him back to hardness and switched places. She climbed over him and took his cock into her body, allowing him a vision he would never forget. He watched her take him, then ride him to ecstasy, groaning as he came in her sweet, welcoming warmth.

  They’d slept, limbs tangled and bodies entwined until she woke before dawn and he caught her trying to slip away from his bed. He’d wrapped one arm around her waist and tried to cajole her into staying. That’s when she’d revealed just why she could not be found lying abed with the Master at Arms. She was the daughter of the house and was expected to be found chastely sleeping in her own bed.

  Tristan had been stunned. Then outraged. Then cuttingly sarcastic. He’d seen the hurt he inflicted on her lovely face, but was powerless to stop himself from being so hateful. He knew in that moment that their night of passion could never be repeated. Never.

  He had driven her away and she had gone, a cold distance between them ever after. He regretted many things about that night and its results, but he would never regret the sweetest pleasure he’d ever known.

  Lady Cara had been distant with him ever since and, after that initial encounter, seemed to not care one way or the other about what had happened. She probably would laugh if she ever realized just how deeply in love with her he was.

  She was a lady. A noblewoman. Tristan wasn’t fit to shine her boots and they both knew it. Their stations in life were too different. She would never be permitted to become involved with someone like him.

  But he could watch her from afar and dream of what could have been.

  Over the next months, Tristan had been tempted to comfort the woman who had invaded his dreams, both waking and sleeping, several times. He’d given in to his instincts when old Lord Harald fell in one of the early battles. She had been distraught and when he’d found her crying softly against her horse’s mane in the dark stable one night, he’d put aside his pride and taken her in his arms. She’d wept all over him for a time, but gradually, she found her courage and inner strength.

  He’d been touched by the way she grieved for her beloved father privately but was strong in public for her people in the days to come. Tristan hadn’t liked the way Lord Envard had treated her after their father died. He’d been petty and short with her in public and more than once, Tristan had found her pacing in the stable, a look of mixed fear and worry on her lovely face.

  He knew the new lord had plans for his sister that were not to her liking. Exactly what they were, he didn’t know. Not yet. He was certain that as the day for action drew nearer, Lord Envard would have to consult with the Master at Arms if he was sending Lady Cara away. At the very least, she would need a group of Guards to travel with her. If he was inviting visitors to the keep, likewise, the lord would have to arrange for the Master at Arms to provide security. Either way, Tristan hoped to learn what caused the lady such upset. He’d wanted to comfort her, but until the threat became real, he refrained—even though it was one of the hardest things he’d ever had to do.

  But then things changed drastically. Envard had been grievously wounded in battle, and Lady Cara was suddenly free to be who she really was. She’d organized the healers and servants to see to Envard’s care and recovery, then taken over, seeing to all the little decisions that needed to be made to keep the place running.

  The very next time the alarm bell sounded, Cara had jumped on her horse and galloped right beside Tristan all the way to the battlefield, though he’d tried to dissuade her.

  That first time, he had stayed glued to her side, watching as she defeated several opponents, as he did the same. Once he realized she could handle herself in real battle, he felt better about having her there. Between them, they felled many of the enemy soldiers and lived to tell the tale. Neither of them had been unhorsed and they rode back to the keep together in the dusk before night fell in earnest.

  They had dismounted together in the dark stable and when she stumbled, he’d caught her against his chest. Her lithe form had felt so right against him and he’d longed for her for months now. She had looked up, seeming to be as stunned as he was, and in the dark of the stable, with the grim euphoria of victory clear in her dazed eyes, she had crept up on tiptoe to match her soft lips to his.

  Heaven had opened up and let him steal another small glimpse of paradise in that moment. Tristan became convinced that Cara had ruined him for all time. She had ruined him for all other women. She had stolen his heart that one, fateful night they’d spent together. He didn’t know later if he would have allowed the moment to stretch into the next morning, but when her horse shifted, it jostled them apart and he saw the confusion in her gaze as he pulled back.

  He couldn’t take that look. It reminded him of their stations and how their relationship could never be. Tristan had set her away from him, steadying her on her feet before turning on his heel and walking away. He would care for his mount later. At the moment, he couldn’t get away from her fast enough.

  Tristan had been careful to never be alone with her again after that night. He’d let her find her own way in the skirmishes they’d fought, though he always kept her in his sights. He would not allow her to come to harm if he had anything to say about it.

  They had an uneasy wall between them now. A wall of silence on all but the most mundane of topics.

  But deep in the night, as he tried to sleep in his lonely bed, Tristan’s thoughts often turned to what it had felt like to hold Cara in his arms.
He remembered the magic of her kiss, and he both hoped and feared he would remember it always…

  Chapter Four

  Lars and Rohtina stayed to help Rath get comfortable. That was nice of them, he thought, but really, Lady Cara had seen well to his comfort. The enclosure she had devised was toasty warm and smelled of the fresh-cut pine she had thoughtfully provided. It wasn’t the usual sandy pit that Lair dragons favored, but it was both clean and comfortable.

  “This will do nicely.” Rath spoke to both Lars and Rohtina, who stood guard outside the curtain. Lars was inspecting the mechanism and smiled when he turned back to Rath.

  “The lady has rigged it so you will be able to open and close the curtain yourself.” Lars proceeded to demonstrate, pulling the rope a few times, much to Rohtina’s enjoyment. She chuckled, sending spirals of smoke up into the darkening sky.

  “Lady Cara is very thoughtful. Did you notice the crate of apples? Give some to my granddaughter. They are tasty.” Rath crunched another apple as he said the words.

  Lars opened the curtain and left it that way, bending to pick up an apple. He threw it toward Rohtina’s mouth and she caught it with a single chomp.

  “Oh, these are good,” she agreed. “Thank you, grandsire.”

  “You are very welcome, sweetling. Now, both of you have been here before,” Rath said, turning the conversation. “What do you think of the Master at Arms?”

  “He is a gifted fighter,” Lars said, answering in his serious manner. “He favors matched, curved blades. You probably saw the sheaths on his back. A foreign style. It is said he comes from a land far from here.”

  “Truly? Which land? Do you know?” Rath asked, intrigued.

  “I’m sorry, Flightmaster. I know not,” Lars admitted.

  “His skill was already the stuff of discussion and gossip before he killed that skith single-handedly today, grandsire.” Rohtina added. “If I had not seen the carcass with my own eyes, I would doubt the truth of it. I have never seen the like.”