Once Upon a Castle - Jill Gregory [117]
Fear and anger spurred her reflexes. As she was forcing his blade away, another flashed up between their crossed weapons, and her rapier went flying out of her numbed and tingling hand
“Enough!” Cador roared.
He stood before them like an avenging angel, broadsword raised and the morning sun creating a halo around his head. There was nothing angelic about his face, though. It was dark with fury. The princess had almost been killed in a brawl, and his wrath was so great it boiled up in his chest like lava. He could scarcely contain it. Another instant and he might have lost her. Tressalara might have been dead in a pool of blood, and the fault was his. His heart thudded with the echo of fear, and with the first stirring of emotion he did not dare acknowledge.
The onlookers stepped back as one, and Nidd cringed. Tressalara stood her ground and lifted her chin defiantly. Violet lights blazed in her eyes, although her voice shook slightly. “I need no one to fight my battles for me, Cador!”
“And I need no quarreling pups to tear the loyalties of this camp asunder!”
She blanched, but he had already turned away to vent his anger on Nidd. “Nor do I need to count among my followers anyone so dastardly as first to attack an unarmed colleague and then follow it up with a coward’s treachery! Nidd, son of Hewel, you are hereby banished from this company!”
He gestured with his shoulder, and two burly men stepped forward, disarmed Nidd, and ordered him out of the camp. The others watched in utter silence. Not a one spoke up in his defense.
Cador faced Tressalara. “For all your slender build, you are a noteworthy swordsman. Your teacher was a master of the art.”
“Yes. Jed…” She caught herself before admitting that it was Jeday, King Varro’s captain, who had instructed her. “My brother Jed taught me well.”
Cador’s eyes narrowed. Yes, he thought he’d recognized Jeday’s techniques in the way she’d wielded that blade to parry Nidd’s near-fatal blow. His heart had almost stopped when he’d seen it coming and known himself to be too far away to save her. He imagined the repercussions to their cause if the Princess Tressalara was murdered while under his protection.
There were other more disturbing considerations that he couldn’t acknowledge, even to himself. A film of sweat covered his forehead, and a fist of anger still knotted his stomach. There must be some way he could keep her out of any further trouble. Inspiration came.
“You need not think your swordsmanship will spare you from my punishment for brawling in camp, Trev. For the next few days, while I am away, you will be at the beck and call of the women of the camp, fetching and carrying wood and water and performing any tasks they may set you to.”
Tressalara swallowed a furious response. She wanted to protest the unfairness of being punished for a fight she hadn’t sought—but then she realized that she might discover far more about Cador and Brand’s motives among the women’s gossip than she could hope to learn from the more taciturn men. The women were more likely to see past the facade and into the heart of the matter. Or the man.
“As you will, Cador.”
He smiled reluctantly. “I hope I may always find you so meek and obedient.” From the set of her jaw, he somehow doubted it. All to the good. The sooner she admitted him to her confidence, the better.
He touched her arm with surprising gentleness. “I will see to your wound.”
At the contact Tressalara jumped back like a scalded cat. “Pah! A mere scratch. I’ll tend to it myself.” Clamping a hand to her bloody sleeve, she walked away with her head held high.
Brand joined Cador. “I see your instincts were on target. The new lad has a cool head and a well-trained arm. I was never more surprised.”
“Nor I!” Cador watched Tressalara’s proud retreat. A rare handful, that one! At least he didn’t have to worry about her while he was away; she could take care of herself. And he knew where to