The Fall of the Wolf Ch. 05

The morning came much too early for Rafe. The first pink rays of dawn were spreading across the sky when two guards came to release him from his bonds. Rafe nearly snarled with foul temper as he waited impatiently while one of the guards untied him from the bed. He had managed only to nap fitfully during the night, waking frequently from his lustful dreams. He was exhausted and frustrated, and he was in no mood to tolerate the situation any longer. However, he could not see any opportunity for escape at that moment.

Rafe saw to his morning needs and washed his face and hands. He was grateful that the water in the basin in his room had chilled overnight. He welcomed the bracing cold to clear his head and his libido. He ran a hand through his hair and exited the bedroom that had served as his overnight torture chamber.

The queen was seated at the small table, eating her breakfast. Her apparent serenity served to irritate him even further. He plopped into the opposite chair and reached for a cup of strong coffee. He gulped some of the fortifying brew, glaring at her over the cup's rim.

Eleta scanned his appearance with outward calm. His hair was dishevelled, and his jaw was covered by two day's growth of black whiskers. He looked thoroughly disreputable. She should have been repulsed by his appearance, but instead her pulse quickened with desire. She thought he looked even more devastatingly handsome than when she had first seen him. She dropped her gaze to hide the hunger in her eyes.

"Did you sleep well?" she inquired sweetly.

"Not at all, your Majesty. I'm afraid your hospitality leaves much to be desired."

"I'm sorry, your Grace," the queen replied. "I would not have had to tie you to the bed if you had not tried to escape."

He merely stared at her with a mocking brow raised. She could not fault him for making the escape attempt. She would have done the same. She cleared her throat and changed the topic.

"Have something to eat. We have a long day ahead of us."

She offered him a plate of warm scones, but he made no move to take one. He merely continued sipping his coffee while subjecting her to his brooding glare. Eleta heaved a sigh and addressed him as she might a naughty child.

"I insist you have something to eat, your Grace."

"I respectfully decline, your Majesty."

His sneering use of her title was anything but respectful. Eleta wondered whether her plan to seduce him would succeed after all. He certainly didn't seem enthused about being in her company this morning. The possibility that he would so thoroughly reject her had not been factored into her careful preparations. For the first time, she began to worry that she might fail. She pushed that unpleasant thought to the back of her mind. There was nothing more she could do until they reached the royal lodge. Once she was alone with Rafe, she would launch her full scale seduction. She shrugged her shoulders as she resumed her own meal.

Rafe seethed as he watched her calmly eating her breakfast. She was dressed in a red velvet riding habit. The skirt draped in elegant folds that conformed to her slim hips and thighs and drew attention to her full bosom. A long sleeved jacket buttoned snugly over the bodice, hugging her from throat to waist. Stark white lace adorned the cuffs and collar, accentuating her dramatic coloring. A red velvet hat perched on her head, and a long white feather lent it a jaunty air. The flirtatious hat was tied beneath her chin with a satin bow. She looked good enough to eat, and Rafe felt his loins beginning to tighten yet again.

It infuriated him that she could so easily arouse him. Even when her bosom wasn't on display, he still couldn't seem to look at her without lustful thoughts suffusing his head. He had never experienced such single minded obsession and the sexual frustration that went hand in hand with it. He wished he could banish her from his thoughts. The sooner he got away from her, the better. Hopefully, he could escape before he lost the last semblance of his self-control.

The queen quickly finished her meal, and Rafe was bustled outside, surrounded by six burly guards. Rafe watched as the guards saddled several horses. One was clearly intended for him and another was outfitted with a side saddle, presumably for the queen. She stood beside him, waiting calmly until they were ready to depart. She looked so desirable, with her fur-lined cloak fastened beneath her chin.

Rafe turned away once more and took several deep, steadying breaths. He inwardly cursed, thinking that she would look desirable no matter what she was wearing. To take his mind off his obsession, he scanned their surroundings.

The inn was surrounded by heavy forests. Rafe had no idea where they had taken him, but he assumed it was in the northern part of the country. The air was more cold and crisp, and the area was mountainous. Although the terrain was unfamiliar to him, Rafe felt confident that if he could just escape and evade his captors, he would be able to find his way to safety. Perhaps once he was mounted, he would find an opportunity to break free from the guards. With luck, the dense woods might provide enough cover to lose them in a pursuit.

When all was ready, Sir Eric stepped forward to lift the queen onto her horse. Rafe felt an irrational burst of anger, as he watched the man's hands linger just a moment longer than necessary on her tiny waist. Rafe's temper flared even hotter when the guard closed his fingers around her dainty ankle and led her foot into the stirrup. The queen appeared unaffected by the man's touch. She arranged her heavy skirts and then accepted the reins with a regal nod of thanks.

The commander of the guards turned to him, and Rafe could have sworn the other man's expression was one of smug antagonism. Rafe knew in that moment that Sir Eric was in love with his sovereign, and he clearly viewed Rafe as a rival for the queen's affections. That realization caused Rafe to be even more puzzled about the current circumstances.

"Mount up," Sir Eric commanded gruffly.

Rafe obliged and swung onto the back of his mount. The chestnut gelding appeared strong and fit, and once again, thoughts of making a run for freedom flitted through his mind. They were quickly squashed when a guard came to secure Rafe's mount between two other horses. When he was finished, Rafe was sandwiched securely between two guards. There were loose ties between all three bridles, and he would have no chance to break free. Rafe ground his teeth in frustration and reluctantly realized that he would have to wait even longer to make his escape.

Sir Eric mounted his own horse and called for his men to do the same. He saluted the queen, and then he led the procession from the clearing. The queen rode just ahead of Rafe, and he had little choice but to watch her hips sway with the motion of her mount. He tried to look away, but his gaze returned repeatedly to the fetching sight of her. He began to fantasize about her naked and perched atop him. He longed to plunge into her while she rode him in exactly the same fashion she rode her mount. The more vivid his imaginings became, the more painful it was to sit his horse, and he bit back a revealing groan.

Eleta could feel the heat of his stare, and she struggled with her own reactions. The jacket of her riding habit felt suddenly too tight, and the soft velvet chafed against her sensitized breasts. She felt an increasingly familiar hunger settle in her loins, and she surreptitiously ground her hips against the saddle trying to gain some relief. The friction only heightened her desire, and she bit her lip as the crotch of her silk drawers grew damp. She was glad Rafe couldn't see her flaming cheeks.

Thus, the morning passed slowly for both Eleta and Rafe, as they each struggled with their desires. Around noon, they reached a small clearing, and they paused for lunch and to give their horses a brief rest. Once again, Rafe watched with displeasure while Sir Eric lifted the queen from her horse. She gave the guardsman a regal nod of thanks and walked into the woods. Rafe watched her until Sir Eric stepped in front of him, cutting her off from his sight.

Rafe met Sir Eric's challenging stare calmly. He was neither afraid of nor intimidated by the hulking guardsman, and he raised a dark mocking brow. Sir Eric looked as if he wished desperately to confront him, but he held his tongue.

With an angry growl, Sir Eric turned away and motioned to several nearby guards. They led Rafe into the woods in the opposite direction from where the queen had disappeared. The guards surrounded him, so he quickly rejected any hope of escaping. Hopefully, there would be a better chance. He ignored them and saw to his immediate needs and then stretched to relieve the tension in his body before returning to the clearing.

Eleta had returned as well. Rafe watched as the queen accepted two large scones, some cheese and a flask of wine from a nearby guard, and she crossed to offer some to him.

"Here," she said. "Have a bite to eat. We won't stop for several more hours."

Rafe would have liked to refuse, but his stomach gave a loud growl. The queen smiled and pressed the scone and cheese into his unresisting hand.

"No matter how angry you are with me, you must eat," she insisted.

Not waiting for any reply, she bit into her own scone, and she moaned with pleasure. He had to stifle a pained groan as her dainty pink tongue darted out to catch a crumb from her bottom lip. Rafe watched her chewing the morsel, and he was more than slightly amazed that such a mundane task as eating could stir his ardor to this degree. Then again, his lust for her had never fully settled. It was always simmering just under the surface. This heightened state of arousal was very quickly wearing down his resistance, and he honestly didn't know how much more he could take.

He turned away and bit into his own scone. He chewed thoughtfully, watching as the guards ate a hasty meal and watered their horses. The queen shared the flask of wine, and he accepted it with murmured thanks. He avoided looking in her direction as much as possible.

After eating, they stood around in small groups, enjoying a few more minutes out of the saddle. Every time Rafe considered making a run for it, he noticed at least a few of the guards watching him. It was clear they would be leaving again shortly, and he was desperate to find some way of sneaking away. He had an increasingly strong suspicion that he did not want to go wherever they meant to take him.

The queen interrupted his musings to offer him the flask of wine once again, and he accepted it without comment. He drank deeply to wash down the food, and he handed it back to her. Against his will, his eyes were drawn once again to her mouth and the delicate curve of her throat as she lifted her chin and drank deeply from the flask.

As if Eleta sensed his undivided attention, she flashed him a seductive smile. Rafe blinked. Had she meant for her smile to be a blatant invitation? Memories of her giving him that same smile in the hall of his castle assailed him, and Rafe was hard pressed to draw a deep breath. Was she purposely flirting with him, or did she simply not realize the effect she was having on him?

Rafe realized suddenly that instead of trying to find a means of escape, his focus was once again focused on the queen. The ease with which she distracted him from thoughts of escape frightened him. He needed to get away from her! She was incredibly dangerous to not only his self control, but his continued peace of mind. It simply would not do to debauch the queen, even if she was practically begging him to do so!

Eleta could tell he was affected by her. She had seen his eyes flare with desire, and she could almost guess the direction of his thoughts. It relieved and pleased her to know she was succeeding in his seduction. She secretly gave thanks that they would soon reach the mountain lodge where she would complete her conquest. Her own desires were gnawing at her, and the sooner they were satisfied, the better.

They were getting ready to remount their horses, when an arrow struck the ground just a few feet from where Eleta and Rafe were standing. Rafe grabbed Eleta and quickly threw her to the ground, shielding her with his body. Just then, musket fire rang out from the surrounding woods.

"Guard the queen!" Sir Eric roared.

In the next moment, chaos ensued, as several guardsmen gathered around the queen. While a few guards remained close by, the rest ran into the surrounding woods to confront their attackers. There were shouts, gunshots, more arrows and the sound of running feet. It took only a few moments for her fierce guardsmen to subdue the attackers. Eleta peeked from beneath Rafe's arm, and she could see Sir Eric wrestling with one of the assailants. She realized that the attacker was naught but a young boy, probably only a teenager. Sir Eric easily subdued him, and the guardsman reached for his pistol.

"Hold!" the queen cried.

There was so much noise that Sir Eric didn't hear her. When it looked as if Sir Eric would indeed kill the lad, Eleta gasped with horror.

Rafe recognized the source of her dismay. "Hold, Sir Eric! Your queen has ordered you to hold!"

Rafe's roar carried across the clearing and echoed through the nearby hills, bringing everything to an instant halt. Both guardsman and attackers froze and turned to him with wide eyes. Rafe turned back to Eleta and quickly scanned her features. He had not been gentle when he had thrown her to the ground.

"Are you alright, your Majesty?"

Eleta had to swallow hard against a lump in her throat before she could answer. "Yes, thank you." She ignored the fact that he was lying practically on top of her, and his well muscled body felt delightfully firm and reassuring. She cleared her throat nervously, hoping he wouldn't notice her blush. "Please help me up."

Rafe rose with a fluid motion and lifted Eleta to her feet. She took a moment to brush grass and dirt from her skirts and then walked over to confront the youth who had been captured by Sir Eric. Just as she suspected, he was little more than a child. His clothing was thin and ragged, and he looked like he hadn't had a decent meal in a very long time. Eleta motioned for the others to be brought before her, and the guards quickly lined them up beside the one she had saved. There were only ten of them, and they all bore bloody noses or lips, black eyes and bruises. They were all similar in age, very young and obviously desperate. She turned back and spoke to the boy she had saved.

"Why have you attacked your sovereign?" she demanded quietly.

The youth looked horrified, and he dropped to his knees in front of her, as did all his comrades. "We had no idea you were the queen, your Majesty. We only wanted to steal some food, and perhaps a bit of coin to see us through the winter."

Eleta raised a scornful brow. "I could forgive robbery, if hunger was your motive. But you were shooting at us, and you could have killed someone." She reached out and lifted the boy's chin until he met her eye. "Do you understand that an attack on the queen is high treason? It is punishable by death."

The boy gulped but nodded his head in agreement. "Yes, ma'am. But we didn't know you were the queen, I swear. And we weren't trying to kill anyone. Why, I had a clear shot at you, but I was aiming for a few feet away. I only wanted to scare you so that you wouldn't resist too much." He motioned toward her guardsmen. "See, ma'am? None of your guards are injured, because I ordered my men not to actually hit anyone. We just wanted to scare you, that's all." The youth blushed with shame and looked back down toward the queen's feet, awaiting his fate.

The corners of Eleta's mouth twitched as if she was holding back a smile. She schooled her features before continuing. "Why have you resorted to thievery? Can you not find some honest way of feeding yourselves?" she asked sternly.

The youth looked up at her pleadingly. "Your Majesty, our village was destroyed more than a month ago. The raiders killed many of our villagers, slaughtered all our livestock and burned most of our homes. We are just trying to survive the winter, and then we can hopefully rebuild."

Eleta had heard reports of just such raids as he described. She shot an accusing glare at Rafe. He could easily read her unspoken message. She obviously felt that he was to blame for these crimes against her people. She turned back toward the youth and sighed heavily.

"What is your name?" she asked quietly.

"Thomas Thatcher," the youth mumbled miserably.

"How old are you, Thomas?"

"I'm fifteen, ma'am. I'll be sixteen next month." he said quietly.

"Are you the eldest here?"

"Yes, ma'am. Jaime over at the end is just a month younger than me, but I'm the leader. Please don't punish them, ma'am. This was all my idea."

Eleta subjected them all to another lengthy inspection. They were only boys, not yet men. They were also outnumbered by her guards. Anyone in their right mind would not have mounted such an attack with virtually no chance of success. It merely confirmed her opinion that their circumstances must be dire. She heaved a heavy sigh and turned back to Thomas.

"Thomas, I find that I am in a merciful mood today. If you and your comrades will swear never to attack anyone like this again and never again to steal from others, I will pardon you all."

"Oh yes, your Majesty!" Thomas was nodding enthusiastically. "I swear that I would rather starve than to ever offend you again, ma'am."

Eleta glanced around at the others, and they were all nodding in agreement and also swearing their agreement. "Excellent! Rise, Thomas. I pardon you all."

"Oh thank you, ma'am. You are the most wonderful queen ever!"

Eleta took his praise in stride and turned to her most trusted guardsman. "Sir Eric, feed these men and then have four of your men accompany them back to their village, along with half our provisions and coin."

Sir Eric frowned heavily. "But, your Majesty..."

Whatever he had been about to say was silenced with an upraised hand from Eleta. She met his eye and tightened her lips. "Sir Eric, unless I am mistaken, you have planned our journey well, taking every conceivable occurrence into account, and you have brought along at least twice as much food and coin as we actually need. Am I correct?"

Sir Eric swallowed hard. "Yes, ma'am, but we shouldn't reward these men for..."

Eleta interrupted. "I assume you are still an excellent huntsman, or have your hunting skills deteriorated since the last time you served as my escort, Sir Eric?"

The guardsman flushed from her backhanded compliment. "Yes, ma'am. I mean no, ma'am, I can hunt quite well," he responded with a flustered frown.

Rafe pressed a knuckle against his mouth to hide his grin as he watched the exchange. Eleta was absolutely adorable when she was being haughty and regal. Sir Eric was a heavily muscled giant who stood more than a foot taller than Eleta, but she somehow managed to appear much more confident and strong than he did while she questioned him. Rafe didn't envy the guardsman, for he was clearly uncomfortable and wanting to avoid the queen's disapproval. Still, Rafe could not fault Eleta for berating the man. She was neither rude nor unjust. She was simply firm and insistent that her orders be carried out exactly as she had given them, and Rafe admired that.

Eleta continued with her queries. "So if our supplies run low, you should be able to forage for game and such, is that right, Sir Eric?"

"Yes, ma'am."

Eleta gave a satisfied nod. "Then I see no reason why we should not extend charity to my subjects who are sorely in need. Have your men gather the provisions and coin I have requested and accompany Thomas and these young men to their village. When they arrive, they are to ascertain what further help we can provide toward their sustenance through the upcoming winter and defense against future attacks. I shall expect a full report upon my return to the palace."