Page 3 of His Noble Savior

“I’d have to negotiate that,” Richard said. “The spring fae would love to claim it. The Summer Court isn’t far from here, and putting down roots near their rival’s territory would amuse them. Making our castle part of the faerie realm would benefit us greatly. It’d grant our walls impenetrable protection from the orcs. The spring fae would give us knights, which we need tohold the front in the south. And if we don’t find Nathan today, they might help us with the search, too.”

“You’re aware Princess Bellerose is a woman, right?”

Richard huffed and strapped on his leg protectors. “Perfectly.” Women weren’t his preferred romantic partners. He’d courted a couple of them over the years and had liked them well enough, but he favored men. It didn’t matter. Most eligible bachelors in the region were women, and Richard wouldn’t get married because his heart desired it; he had to get married to forge a favorable alliance for his house and secure the future of his barony—perhaps even the future of Vale. He was going to marry whoever provided the greatest assets, and the spring princess was at the top of his list.

He had yet to meet her, and unless she was an insufferable person, he saw no reason why a marriage of convenience wouldn’t work. The only issue was that a fae wedding didn’t just bind the parties legally, it also connected their souls, creating an unbreakable bond that transmitted emotions. He should arrange an in-person introduction soon. Hailing from the Spring Court, Princess Bellerose was a light fae, the kind said to be more mischievous than dangerous—unlike Malorn and the rest of the dark fae.

Richard ran his hands over his leather armor, ensuring it hugged his body tightly. The House Dalton coat of arms graced the exquisitely crafted cuirass, and Richard wore the symbol with pride. His late mother had passed the title of baron on to him, and he took his responsibility for his people seriously. No matter who was in orc captivity at Ellesmere, Richard was going to free them. He was hoping to find Nathan, but any man held captive by those barbarians deserved to be rescued.

Richard belted his sword and wrapped himself in a cloak against the wind. He didn’t like putting George at risk, but Resh was ready to defend him with his life. As a fire imp, he could holdhis own against an orc or two.

In the courtyard, where ivy crawled up the castle’s stone walls, they met with the knights accompanying their attack. Richard had sent most of them south and couldn’t afford to take more than two—otherwise he’d leave his castle exposed. The women were well-trained though, wearing heavy chain mail and carrying an array of weapons.

“How many orcs are we expecting?” one of them asked.

“The townspeople have spotted six. I doubt there are more since they have only one captive.” Richard didn’t want to think about what six orcs would do to a lone man.

The stable master brought Richard and his companions their steeds. He thanked her before jumping onto his mare, the scent of musk and grass hitting him. Adjusting his position to get comfortable in the saddle, Richard petted the horse’s neck, its white coat soft under his fingertips.

“May you ride under the Lady’s shield,” the stable master said as they trotted off.

The horses’ hooves pounded the drawbridge, the wooden planks vibrating. Richard led his steed past the gate and downhill, descending into the Somer Valley. Reaching wide open land, he spurred his horse into a canter. Ellesmere was in the deep south of his barony, and Richard was determined to make the return journey in a day. His castle was the safest place far and wide, and with orcs abound, Richard didn’t want to spend the night anywhere but the sturdy walls of a fort that had stood the test of time.

Under the clear blue sky, they followed the River Somer downstream. It was swollen from the snowmelt in the White Mountains, the next rain threatening to push it over the banks and flood the pastures to both sides.

Sunlight kissed Richard’s face as he pressed his mare. The wind picked up, driving into his curls and carrying small whitepetals through the air. They brushed past him, a couple tangling in his steed’s mane.

Springtime was in full swing. Yellow canola fields dotted the landscape, and blooming trees shone in soft hues of pink and ivory. Herons stalked the fields along the river while bluebirds chirped in the shrubbery. Here and there, tulips and carnations grew in colorful clusters of orange and fuchsia.

Riding past villages and lakes, Richard pushed for Ellesmere. Knowing the orcs had progressed that far into Vale disquieted him. During winter, the orcs, who loathed the cold, had stayed near the Great River, the warmest part of the kingdom. With the onset of spring, they had ventured north. The noble houses of Vale had joined forces to halt their advance but with little success.

The sun reached its zenith as Richard and his riders approached Ellesmere. He sent a knight ahead to collect information from the townspeople on where the orcs had been seen last. She returned with a hastily drawn map of the area, depicting a nearby lake and the surrounding forests and marshes. A cross marked the orcs’ last known location on the eastern shore of the lake between a grove and a series of fields. The orcs were getting bold—they were encroaching on a town and saw no need to hide in the forest.

Richard clenched his jaw. It was important he’d come. Ellesmere’s defenses were feeble, and the town’s young women, who could’ve defended their families, were deployed further south. He’d have to relocate troops.

“We’re going to approach the orc camp as quietly as possible,” Richard told his companions. “They mustn’t notice our presence until we attempt to extract the captive. The later the orcs realize we’re there, the better. We’re not going to win full-on combat. They’d decimate us. We’re going to ride in, snatch the hostage and ride off. No matter what happens, stay on your horses.They’re our only means to escape when the orcs pursue us—and they will.”

George gave a clipped nod. “Let’s get Nathan home.”

Richard’s hands curled into fists around his reins. He hoped and prayed they’d find Nathan.

They drove their horses past Ellesmere and toward the lake. To their left, a sprawl of fields opened. The camp was located in the shade of a grove, and the trees would hide the riders’ advance.

Richard’s plan disintegrated when a rabbit dashed out from a hole in front of a knight’s stallion, spooking it. The horse balked and nickered, taking off in fright, trampling across the field.

Richard cursed. The orcs had been alerted to their presence. He ought to be quick if he wanted to free the captive. Richard made a sharp gesture in the direction of the trees and spurred his mare into a gallop. With the others on his heels, he tore toward the grove, hooves thundering.

A flash of white between the trees. Ahead of them, the knight regained control over her frightened horse, readying to intercept from the side.

Richard dashed forward, prepared to round the grove, when a young man broke out of the greenery. Thin and blond, he was a far cry from Nathan’s muscular form and tanned skin. Sharp empathy knifed Richard’s heart—the man was naked. He ran toward Richard, his bare feet pounding the grass. Behind him, a horde of orcs bolted out of the grove, chasing him.

Richard didn’t think. He acted. Galloping across the field, he raced for the man, forcing his horse into a neck-breaking pace. The orcs gained on the man. If they caught him, the rescue mission would be for naught. With only five riders, Richard’s troop stood no chance against the orcs. Richard had to get to the captive before it was too late.

He drove his horse to its limits, eyes glued to the manrunning toward him. Thirty yards. Twenty. Ten. He drove his heels into the mare’s sides for purchase and leaned sideways in the saddle. The world blurred, the young man the only thing in focus. Hanging off the horse, Richard opened his arms. His eyes connected with the young man’s. Expressive pink irises under fair lashes. A body so pale it seemed all color had been washed out of it. Pointy ears peeking out from underneath tangled white-blond strands. A fae!

Richard snatched him out of the orcs’ reach and hauled him into his lap. The fae was frighteningly light. Malnourished. He collided with Richard’s front. Ripping at the reins, Richard curved the mare’s path away from the orcs. Ahead of him, George and Resh cantered north. The knights slowed until he’d passed them, forming the rearguard.

Pressing the fae to his chest, Richard put distance between them and the orcs. As they galloped away, he couldn’t help but notice the bruises littering the fae’s body and the dirt caked on his skin. Along the fae’s leg ran a trickle of blood.

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