Page 44 of Sword of Desire
She’d hidden the sword on the right side of the bed, between the two mattresses. Once Lyle fell asleep, she’d reach down, pull the sword free, and kill him. She’d practiced pressing a knife into a raw potato. She had to push hard and fast, and there could be no second-guessing with her kingdom and freedom at stake.
Turning away from the mirror, she went over to the door leading to the adjacent room. She hesitated a moment and then reached forward, clasping the door handle. From this point forward, she had to be strong. Pushing the door open, she entered the room lit only by a handful of candles—just enough to find her way around the room. The less she saw of Lyle, the better.
Going over to the bed, she pulled back the covers and closed her eyes, remembering the night she’d spent with Ackley. He’d been so gentle and loving with her. Everything she’d imagined it could be with the right person.
And now she had to spend the night with the wrong person. A tear slid down her cheek. She wiped it away. This was her choice, and she couldn’t be sad about it. This man was her husband, and she’d been with him countless times. Plus, she needed to be careful since Lyle knew her. If she acted strangely, he’d suspect something was wrong. The second he walked in, he’d expect to be the one in charge. And she had to let him have his way.
The door opened.
Harley turned and faced Lyle.
“Something’s come up,” he said, not stepping into the room. “My attention is needed elsewhere. Go to bed in here. If it’s not too late when I return, I’ll spend the rest of the night with you.” He started to leave, then paused. “If I’m not back by morning, I want you to go to that village I took you to. Wait there for me.”
She nodded, wondering what needed his attention so late at night and where he could be going. If he intended to return by morning, then it couldn’t be too far away.
After the door closed, she let out a sigh of relief. She’d thought she was ready to go through with the assassination until she saw Lyle standing in the doorway. Now, she realized she needed to fine-tune her plan for it to succeed.
She climbed into bed and reached between the mattresses, her fingers fumbling over cold steel. Withdrawing the weapon, she pretended to strike Lyle with it. She went through the motion countless times until it not only felt natural, but she could do it with ease in a matter of seconds. Once her confidence had been restored, she stretched out on her stomach, trying to fall asleep. If Lyle didn’t return tonight, she’d try killing him tomorrow.
* * *
A light feather of a touch brushed Harley’s shoulder. Her eyes fluttered open. The candles had burned lower casting a soft glow over the room. It had to be almost morning. Harley rolled onto her back, rubbing her eyes.
Lyle knelt on the bed beside her. He leaned down, his mouth devouring hers. His lips felt hard, demanding, and wrong. She wanted Ackley. But to have Ackley, she needed to get rid of this man above her.
He lowered his body onto hers. His hands reached down, shoving her nightgown up and pulling it off over her head. He leaned back and focused on her.
She forced herself to stare into his cold eyes. As he usually did when they had marital relations, he broke eye contact. He shoved himself inside of her, taking his pleasures. As always, he was fast, rough, and efficient. She’d long ago learned to relax and let him have his way. If she engaged at all, it only prolonged the event. It was best to get it over with as quickly as possible.
When he finished, he rolled off her, lying beside her.
Tears welled in her eyes. Even though this man was her husband, she felt as if she’d cheated on Ackley. Which was insane since they didn’t even have an understanding. The night they shared could have been a one-time thing. She had no idea if there was a future with Ackley.
The tears slid from her eyes, falling down the sides of her face, pooling in her ears. She couldn’t move and wipe them away because then Lyle would know. And she couldn’t let him see that he’d gotten to her.
She remained there, waiting.
Eventually, Lyle’s breathing evened out, becoming heavy and smooth.
It was time for her to make her move. Her tears had dried. Her heart had hardened. Peering over, she verified Lyle’s eyes were closed, his chest slowly rising and falling as he slept.
As slowly as possible, she reached down, pulling the sword free from the mattresses. Her hand trembled as she held the weapon, the weight of it suddenly heavy. Once she brought the sword up, she couldn’t hesitate. She had to do it quickly. She was an assassin sent to kill a ruthless man who’d murdered her family. Fury built inside of her. This man had slaughtered her brother, destroyed her kingdom. He had to die—and she was the only one who could end him.
She’d practiced this hundreds of times. Taking a deep breath, she counted to three and moved. She pulled the sword up and twisted her body, straddling Lyle. Raising the sword, she gripped the hilt with both hands and placed the tip at his neck. All she had to do was push it into him.
His eyes flew open, and a smile slid across his face. “It took you long enough.”
Ackley
Ackley woke up early. After packing his supplies, he stood and stretched, surveying the land. He needed to head north, Gytha northeast, and his four soldiers west. A light fog clung to the land like a blanket. Navigating through it would be difficult. However, it would allow him to easily avoid his enemies.
Gytha came and stood next to him. While she wore nondescript clothing, her hair hung in its signature braid down her back.
“My spies always travel incognito,” Ackley said, handing her a cap he’d stolen from the last town they’d rode through.
Without asking any questions, she wound her braid around her head, then put the cap on. With her muscular build, someone would have to look twice before realizing she was a woman. He chose not to mention that. There was no use in having her hit him before they parted ways.
“I think what you’re doing is stupid, risky, and unnecessary,” she said.
