The Dubious Heir Read online

  Treea’s hand touched the hilt of her short sword. There was no one here to stop her from capturing him. The thought of butchering him the way Hurley had been butchered did cross her mind and would’ve gladly have done so if she didn’t need him as her prisoner.

  Dale didn’t wait for Treea to question why they were in the basement. He found a sack of grain and took a seat upon it after lighting a candle that set on a wooden crate. He broke their silence aware of the glint of steel hanging from her sash. “You sent a message to the King about my existence, didn’t you?”

  “I did. I told him you were my prisoner.”

  “Well, that was an ill thought out plan on your part.”

  Treea prepared to pull her sword from its sheath. “It was not. It was a perfectly thought out plan.”

  “Did it work?”

  “Not yet. It is too soon for the King to respond.”

  Dale chuckled.

  “What’s so funny?”

  “You…”

  “Me?”

  “Yes, you. You are so naive to think that such a plan would work at all.”

  “Only naive to let someone else keep watch over my prisoner. How is it that you killed Hurley anyways?”

  Dale slipped a hand before his collar and unbuttoned his shirt to expose a glimpse of his chest. Treea expected him to pull a knife out from under his shirt, maybe a throwing dagger perhaps. He procured none. Instead, he lazily rested his back against the wall and eyed her.

  “I merely took advantage of his jealously. I only knocked him out. I did not kill him.”

  Her brows furrowed in anger. “You left him to die.” She spat at him.

  “Had I stayed in your hold, not only would your beloved Hurley been dead, I would have been dead too. You would have nothing.”

  “The King’s men wouldn’t have killed you. They were there to rescue you.”

  “You are more naive than I thought. You don’t know a thing about the Duke, do you? He was the one who sent the guards after you and your ship. They were not there to rescue me. They were there to kill me.”

  “Why would they want to kill you if you are the King’s heir? That doesn’t make any sense.”

  “The Duke doesn’t want our king to have an heir. He is next in line to the throne as long as I stay out of the picture.”

  “How do you know this?”

  “Because he is the one who ordered to have my mother killed while she was with child.”

  “But wasn’t that to save the King from embarrassment of having an illegitimate child?”

  “No, the king loved my mother and she loved him. They would be married if it hadn’t been for the Duke’s interference. She ran to save her life. She ran to save the life of her unborn child.”

  “If that is the case, what do you plan to do? The king knows you exist.”

  “I know that the Duke knows I exist. I’m not so sure about the King. Your ransom note may have never reached the king. The duke may have intercepted it and then ordered the strike on your ship.”

  “That still hasn’t answered my question.” Treea let her hand slip off the hilt of her sword.

  “Come sit beside me and let’s talk about this more.” Dale patted the sack he sat on, beckoning Treea to join him.

  She obliged. She had been standing long enough. Her feet were killing her in the boots she wore. When her arm brushed against Dale, she found him warm. Her teeth had begun to chatter from the cellar’s dampness.

  “Are you cold?” Dale wrapped his arm about her and pulled her closer to him.

  His touch sent a tingle deep inside her. There was no reason she should feel such a thing. Her feelings had been for Hurley. Even though he was gone, it was too soon to begin thinking about someone else in that manner. She wanted to pull away to make that feeling stop, but she was cold and he was warm. She relented and allowed herself to be drawn against his body.

  “If the king doesn’t know you exist and the duke wants you dead, then how am I going to get my pop back?”

  “I’m going to need an audience with the king. Somehow, some way, I need to prove to him that I am his long lost son. The child he never knew existed. Then and only then, I may be able to convince him that the arrest of your pop was a terrible mistake and misunderstanding. If he sees it my way, he will release him immediately.”

  “But what about the Duke?”

  Dale began to stroke his fingers up and down Treea’s arm, reigniting the tingling inside her. It started in her stomach and traveled to her inner thighs. She found herself gazing into his eyes while he spoke.”

  “He will pose a problem if I can’t get to the king before he intervenes. I could be arrested and ordered executed for impersonating a royalist.” His lips moved closer to her. Suddenly, they were making contact with her neck below her earlobe, which his tongue touched in soft strokes that caused her to gasp unexpectedly. He stopped as suddenly as he started.

  Treea wanted more but said nothing of the sort. “How do you plan to get past the Duke?” She turned her face more so that she could look into his eyes easier. It would be so easy for her to melt into his arms. Her lips were inches away from his.

  “I will need someone to distract the duke for me.” His lips were almost touching hers.

  “Do you want me to distract him for you?” She leaned closer to him making their lips touch, kissing him eagerly. Hurley was dead, but that wouldn’t make the arousal go away. Dale was alive and it was his lips that were touching hers.

  Dale turned to accommodate their positions, pushing her backwards on the grain sack. His hands cradled her face gently. Slowly one hand crept toward her chest where he found the strings to undo the lacing letting her breast pop out of their binding. His lips found her nipples, sucking them gently and stroking the tips with his tongue.

  Treea couldn’t help but gasp at the growing arousal. She wanted to shed her dress and feel his skin against hers. Instead, he pushed up the hem of her dress exposing her lower abdomen and kissed her below her button, following a straight path to her patch. Her legs twitched with the need to spread, but his body was in their way.

  Instead, he stood, taking her by the hand he pulled her to her feet and spun her around, pushing her breast up against the wall. The cold cooled her heat for only a short moment which ended when he once again hiked up her hem after unhitching his own pants. His hand stroked her ass gently. He bent over and kissed it tenderly following a path to the inside of her thigh.

  This time she was able to spread her legs. His fingers found her love spot and stroked it tenderly. “Your beginning to warm up.”

  Treea had a hard time talking. She panted in between words. “I’m not cold anymore.”

  “Do you want me to stop? I can stop if you want me too.”

  “No, please don’t stop.”

  “You want some more?” He said softly in her ear.

  “Yes, I want more.”

  Dale kissed her neck. He grinned. “Would you beg for more if I stopped?” He started to pull away. Still holding the hem of her dress up against her back.

  Treea hissed. “Don’t stop now. You can’t leave me like this. You have to, please don’t stop.”

  Dale rubbed his hand over her ass again. With one swift jerk, his shaft was in her. There was no turning back. He pumped against her driving deeper and deeper inside. She pushed against him in rhythm with every thrust. Her ass arched upward in desire until she couldn’t hold herself back anymore. He went deep as he could go coming the same time as she did. He wrapped his arms around her and held her tightly against him until his convulsions stopped.

  He released her and reclined back on the grain sack. Treea giggled and let herself fall on top of him. “I want more.” She said chasing his lips to kiss him.

  Dale laughed. “I’ll tell you what. I’ll give you lots more where that came from if you distract the duke for me.”

  Treea smiled in return. “All right. You have a deal. But you might not like how I plan to divert him.�
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  Dale raised an eyebrow. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Ha, a girl has to do what a girl has to do.”

  “If only it was that easy,” Dale replied.

  Chapter 15

  Treea didn’t know what had gotten into her last night. How could she jump from the arms of one man who was now dead into the arms of another, one she didn’t even know. But it felt so right to be in those arms. Hurley hadn’t even been dead for more than a couple of days. Had she not loved him more than she thought she had? She would never know if his feelings for her were more than he had ever let on to, especially after the way he had reacted to her encounter with the heir.

  She would miss Hurley dearly, but after how she had behaved with Dale last night she began to question as to whether she had really been in love with Hurley the way she thought she’d been. They did have many a spat that her Pop had to break up over some stupid thing as in how she dressed by wearing men’s pants instead of dresses. Treea kept telling him the sea wind was too cold for her to be wearing a dress. Their argument would always end with her yelling at him, “Why don’t you trying wearing a dress for a day with that sea wind so your balls will freeze and fall off!”

  She did not miss the fights they had.

  Dale was different. He was gentle, younger, and much better looking than Hurley. But that was not a good reason to become involved with him. If things went right, Dale would become the King’s rightful heir and her Pop would be released. They would return to the sea and probably never return to this kingdom ever again. Which would mean that Treea would never see Dale ever again and he would go on to marry some princess from a far away land as the King had done. Should this even matter to her? There was many a man on the sea.

  All this did not help to change how her feelings for Dale had begun to grow. How she couldn’t stop thinking about him. She never once had this problem with Hurley.

  “You be careful of the Duke,” Treea said before leaving Dale in the cellar hole. They had hid there until the early morning dawn, slipping away while the city still slept.

  “Aye, and you too, my Lady. I do know a bit more about taking care of myself in predicaments than you would care to know. I will see to it that your Pop is released soon.” Dale said while he kissed her hand tenderly before letting it go.

  Once she was gone and out of sight, Dale made his way through the winding streets of the city. He had to travel across the town. The King’s castle was to the South at the top of a craggy cliff where the King could look down at his town’s people from the top of the torrents. Here the castle was safe from crashing sea waves when a storm brewed. The sea water never reaching the top of the cliff wall.

  A dense forest separated the Castle from the town. Miles and miles of forest on each side held wildlife that could be hunted for an extra fee and a license from the king. Not many could afford the license and some poaching did occur. First offense if caught was a fine of double the amount of the license fee. Second offense was prison. Third offense was indentured as a servant for the rest of the life of the offender. Rarely did anyone ever escape the services of the castle as his mother did.

  How she came to be a servant at the castle was not known to Dale. He never knew she had anything to do with the castle up until recently. If he had taken the time to read her diary, he had in his possession he would have had a small glimpse of her life. He might even have learned how she had come to be indentured to the castle. Diaries were a private matter and it was his mother’s private matter and not to be looked into by him unless it would help his matters.

  Dale not only loved his Mum, but he respected her. He never told her what he was doing for a living while trying to pay his way through college. Herbalism and alchemy was a hard thing to learn. He had learned some stuff, but he had only begun his lessons this past year. There were a good many more years to go before he was to move past the apprentice stage.

  Thinking of this reminded him of how he had not mentioned his nonappearance to his master. The master only waved him off and told him to see him after he was done taking care of his matters. Never once did the man question him as to where he had gotten off to. Dale had to wonder if his master knew all along about him. The wise man had a tendency to know things no one else seemed to know.

  Before leaving the city, Dale had stopped to check up on his Mum one last time. He had to make sure she was still safe. Which she was. But by his stopping in and showing her the book she made him change into his finest. She didn’t want the King seeing his only son in rags.

  Loose wool pants and leather boots accompanied a white cotton button down shirt with a red wrap headband pinning his hair away from his face. It also hid the points to his ears. His Mum finished him off with a wool cape pinned at the neck by a brooch. It had been given to her by the King’s son, who was Dale’s father, as a token of his love. He even told her that it might come in handy someday, possibly saving her life. It was an heirloom of some sort.

  When she was done with him, he was spun before the only mirror they owned so he could see his transformation. He certainly looked dashing. “Whatever you do, don’t ruin those clothes. It will be years before I can make you another one of those shirts.”

  Dale laughed. “Mum, if the King accepts me as his heir I will have many of these shirts.”

  She put her hand against his cheek which he took hold of and brought it to his lips to lay a tender kiss upon. “But those will not be made by me.”

  “Nay, they wouldn’t be unless you insisted upon making them.”

  His comment brought a smile to her face.

  It was a long walk to the castle. He had to travel on foot. Horses were not cheap and carriages were even more costly.

  Along the way, he found a knotty stout branch to use for a walking stick. It also would do well as a staff if he needed to defend himself if need be. When one does not plan for trouble, trouble always finds you.

  The castle was a good day’s walk. He arrived at the gate just before sundown. If he were lucky, he might be given an audience by the King today.

  “You there, state your business.”

  “I wish for an audience with the King.”

  A guard stepped forward to give Dale further inspection and turned to his fellow mates guarding the entrance. “He wears the Baron’s brooch.”

  “Let him pass.” A tall man in light mail answered. He appeared to be a captain of the troupe. “Escort him to the King’s Hall.”

  It seemed too simple, using the brooch as a way into the castle.

  Dale remained silent while he followed the guard into the castle. When they reached the hall, he was told to stay and wait while the King was told he had company. A couple of times the guard addressed Dale by calling him, “My Lord.” Never once did he expect to be mistaken for a Baron.

  While he waited, a tray of tea and cakes were delivered by a maid and set upon a table near by. Dale did not touch these. He had been brought up proper by his Mum. The King needed to invite you if you were to dine with him.

  “What may I do for you?”

  Dale had his back to the speaker. He had been busy admiring a cloth hanging upon the wall. The tapestry was that of the layout of the streets of the town where Dale had come from. When he heard a voice, he turned around upon his heel to lay eyes upon the King for the first time in his life. Was he supposed to kneel or bow? Dale picked bow.

  “Your majesty.” Dale did not know how to begin. He had tried to rehearse while traveling here just exactly what he would say to the King about his mother but now the words fell short from his lips. Especially when he saw the duke was standing behind the King. There was something about the man that made Dale pause before speaking. Was it the way the Duke narrowed his eyes at him or the fact that the man stood watch over the King? Dale couldn’t quite put his finger on it.

  The King was one step ahead of Dale. He was tipped off by the brooch. There was only one person who would have had that brooch. When he saw it, the memories
of her came flooding back. “I know this brooch. I gave it to someone many years ago.”

  Dale smiled. “It is my mother’s.”

  The Duke stepped forward. “Your mother? How do you know it belonged to your mother? I heard she died when you were a babe.”

  This called for a careful approach. Dale knew the Duke wanted the heir dead for some unknown reason. He knew he couldn’t trust him. What the man was up to and what would happen once the King left Dale’s presence was without question. He had already tried once to kill him. Most likely he would try again, somehow, some way.

  “My Mum is alive and healthy.”

  “Then the brooch was attached to your blanket and your adoptive mother gave it to you.” The Duke responded. Not once did the Duke look to the King for approval. He continued to stare Dale down.

  “No, I was not adopted. My birth mother still lives.”

  Dale could not help but notice how the Duke balled his fists at the news of his mother’s good health and long life. Now he focused his attention on the King. “Your majesty, I brought you the book my mother kept while she was living here in the castle as a young woman. It may shed some light to what happened to her and how I came to be.” He retrieved the book from inside his cloak while he spoke and held it out to the King to take.

  The Duke started to reach for the book before the King, but his hand was swatted away by Dale allowing the King to receive the book himself.

  “How dare you?” reacted the Duke.

  “Ellington, leave us.” The King waved him away with his free hand.

  This got Dale a sneer from the Duke before leaving the two of them alone.

  “Come sit with me, son, and have some tea and cakes while I look at this here book of yours.”

  Dale sat across from the King at the small oval table and sipped tea and nibbled on cakes while he waited for comment from the King while he read the book. A few times the King’s face become flush from reading certain passages and even looked up once to ask, “Did you read any of this book?”