The Lady Quill Chronicles - The Promise

The Lady Quill Chronicles - The Promise - Chapter Eleven

Chapter Eleven

Lord Rand of Targhe stood in the shadows and watched the trio as they settled down for sleep. His eyes were obscured and therefore his expression was inscrutable as he stood beside the trunk of a big tree, invisible to the people not twenty feet away from him. He was alone, a circumstance that would have bewildered Rafe yet further had he but known of it, and his sword was drawn in his hand, but his grip was loose as though he had little intention of using it.

He stood there for a long time, turning the sword restlessly, but slowly, as though he found the movement therapeutic. He hadn’t been able to sleep, as he had lain next to the fire fatigue had fled and drowsiness had disappeared in the face of his encroaching thoughts. Eventually it had been too much, and he had risen from his bed and crept out of the camp.

He had needed to see this warrior that he was following and had known that he would not be able to sleep until he had. This need had drawn him from the warmth of his furs and through the damp darkness to stand watching in the shadows of the forest.

Now here he couldn’t seem to leave, he was so close to her, he could have walked across the space that separated them and finish finally what his father had started all those years before. His face stretched into a smile that was made ghastly by the moonlight, his eyes turned to slits and his mouth became a black slash in his pale face.

Of course, he would have to do something about the warrior first, for even though he was curled up beneath the out crop and made indistinct by the cloak covering him, Rand could still see him as he had appeared when fighting off the attack at the first camp. He would have trouble with him and he had no wish to feel the cold kiss of steel. No, it would have to wait until another time, a time when he had numbers on his side.

But still he lingered, unable to tear himself away from his hiding place, finding his closeness to Adele, but his inability to get closer, a sweet torment that both frustrated and yet excited him. Soon the time would come, his wait would not be long.

The wind picked up and sent a sighing breath of dampness through the trees. It blew on Rand at an angle, striking him on his neck and rippling up through his hair. One moment he was still before it, allowing it to flow across him and the next he had spun sharply, sword no longer loose in his hand but gripped strongly and pressed against the throat of the man he had caught and pinned against the trunk of a tree.

For a second the figure clawed and struggled strenuously, but silently, his only reward was for Rand’s sword to press closer into the flesh of his neck. Abruptly the figure stopped struggling and sagged against the tree breathing as deeply as Rand’s grip allowed. For a few moments Rand and the intruder remained thus as all around them the wind moaned and leaves stirred softly, then Rand released him.

“You should know better than to startle me, Bron.” he reproved mildly.

Bron smoothed a hand over the skin of his neck which still tingled from the touch of Rand’s sword.

“I did not notice that you were much surprised, Master.”

Rand did not reply but turned back to his contemplation of those beneath the shelter of the out crop.

“What the…?” Rand started, his attitude becoming more tense. “Can you see him?”

“See who? Master?”

“The warrior you fool!” spluttered Rand, seizing him by the arm and pulling him down to crouch against the roots of one of the large trees.

“Can you not see his place is empty?”