Page 91 of Through Battle and Blades (The Wolf Queen 2)

“So this story?” Dane asked once I was settled in beside him. “Where does it come from?”

I explained my vision at the feet of the Mother’s statue, seeing that golden light for a moment, words escaping me.

“But when I talk about it, I see her, see Nordred.”

“Nordred?” Axe asked with a frown. “What has he to do with this?”

“She was in love with him,” I replied. “And he, her. He was her true mate, her only one, it appears. But Callum,”—Axe made a sound of disgust— “he wouldn’t accept that. From what you’ve told me of the old queens, I assumed they would be strong leaders, powerful warriors.”

“That’s the way the stories are told to us,” Weyland said, “but as with the gaps in your own history books, it’s not unexpected that we’d have a… ‘selective’ view of things as well.” He frowned slightly. “Perhaps you should tell us more about her, continue her story. She’s a character much demonised here. The Granians wouldn’t have a king if it wasn’t for her. She took her divinely appointed role and handed it to the enemy like it was a bucket of gold or something.”

“Sought to pay off the bloody Granians,” Axe growled. “And look how that turned out.”

“Tell the story,” Gael said, then turned to his brothers. “And you shut up. There’s something in Eleanor’s tale. Surely between the five of us we can work out what that is.” He turned and looked down the road in front of us. “Before we reach the bloody battlefield.”

“So what did I walk in on before?” Dane asked. “Nordred confessed his feelings for the queen?”

“Eleanor,” I corrected him, then nodded, my eyes tracing the line of Arden’s neck, before my vision started to go hazy. The regular slow clop of the horses’ feet, the rocking of my body in the saddle. it worked to pull me under, back to her.

“My queen, if you’re caught…”

Maisie’s teeth worried her bottom lip and with good reason. The previously queenly Eleanor was now dressed in a much plainer, simpler dress, a thick cloak thrown over the top of it.

“Don’t worry, Maisie,” she said, putting a hand on her maid’s arm. “If I’m caught, I’ll just say I stole the clothes. If I’m wilful enough to sneak into a man’s room at night, they’ll surely believe that.”

“But he is your true mate?” Maisie’s eyes filled with hope and sentiment and that’s when Eleanor knew she was right in her choice of co-conspirator. Her maid was always a soft hearted thing, and was caught up in the romance of the royal family in a way only someone not forced to live by its strictures could be.

“He is. I know without a speck of doubt in my heart,” Eleanor replied.

“But surely Prince Callum must see the sense—”

“It’s not up to my brother to approve or disapprove of my actions.” The maid jerked back as if slapped at the sound of Eleanor’s sharp retort. “I am queen.”

“Of course, Your Majesty. I never—”

Eleanor stopped the woman from dropping down into a deep curtsey, giving her maid’s arm an apologetic squeeze before she pulled away.

“Whatever happens tonight will be on my head, not yours or anyone else’s.” The queen took handfuls of her skirts in her hands, readying herself to leave her rooms. “That I promise.”

But just what would await her, that she didn't know. Eleanor’s feet moved fast, then faster as she scurried down the hallway, away from the royal suite and towards his.

When she reached his door, she paused. She’d only passed a guard or two on her way and they had little interest in what appeared to be a serving girl. As far as they knew, she was on her way to do the nobility’s bidding, just as they were. But when she finally arrived at her destination, her hand raised, she stopped. She looked up and down the hallway, sure someone would leap out, prevent her from what she was about to do. It was treason or adultery or some sin with a weighty name. But considering the consequences wasn’t enough to stop her. Her knuckles rapped against the door, the sound too loud, too immediate. Before anyone else could respond, the door was jerked open and heaven was revealed.

“What is it?”

I’d never seen Nordred look so irritated. When I knew him, he was always a picture of calm strength, but back in this time period he was young and strong with it. Those eyebrows drew down, his mouth hardened as he considered what was before him, until Eleanor pulled back her hood.

“Goddess…”

Her name was an evocation on his lips, but a short lived one. His hand snapped out, his eyes searching the corridors as he jerked her inside, slamming the door shut behind them and throwing the latch.

“What the hell are you doing here?”

This wasn’t the passionate clinch she’d hoped to be met by. Falling to his knees with declarations of love was also high on her wish list. Instead, the much loved figure walked back and forth, back and forth, pacing like a caged animal. Because he was. Locked up in this room with her. With a woman he didn’t want to be sharing a space with.

“Nordred…” Her voice wavered so she stopped herself and took a breath. “Nordred, you led me to believe—”

“What?” He stilled abruptly then, standing perfectly still and such a fine figure with it. Her attention on the breadth of his shoulders, the finely wrought shape of his body made me squirm, but this was Eleanor’s tale, not mine. “That I shared your feelings? That I…”

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