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like a normal man, with a straight dark brow and a well
cut mouth, twisted down. Only the dark stubble on his head looked
unnatural. Why would a man shave his head like that?
    “ You are all right?” he
asked.
    She stared at him, barely able to believe her
good fortune. “Yes.”
    “ Then I bid you goodnight.”
Quietly, he closed the door behind him.
    Elwytha stared after him. What was that
about? Why hadn’t he pressed his advantage? Clearly, he could
physically overpower her.
    After a moment she washed, changed, blew out
the lamp, and crawled into bed. She felt spent and achingly empty.
She cried again, but quietly this time, for her brother. Somehow,
she would avenge his death. Her misery here would not be for
ought.
     
    * * * * *
     
    The Commander paced his chambers, feeling a
disturbed, restless energy—as well as guilt—churn through him.
Clearly, he had killed someone Elwytha loved. But who? All the
faces blurred together in battle. He put the heel of his hand to
his head. She hated him. He acknowledged that this would never
likely change. It sickened him, but what had he expected?
    Still, she was to be his wife. The desire to
keep her for his own appealed now, more strongly than before. What
could he do so she would look upon his presence with favor?
    An idea came to mind, and he smiled. Perhaps
it would soften her heart toward him a little. He hoped so.
     

 
     
     
     
    Chapter
Three
     
     
     
    The next morning, a gentle
tap on her door awakened Elwytha. Alarmed,
she sat bolt upright. Yesterday’s distressing events streaked
through her mind. She was betrothed to the Commander.
    Mayhap that was he, seeking entrance to her
virginal chamber?
    She clutched the bedclothes to her neck,
fervently wishing yet again for the friendly bite of her steel
blades. Then she reminded herself that she was a warrior, not a
fainting violet. No more displays of weakness. Last night she had
succumbed to frayed nerves, but this morning she felt refreshed and
clear headed once more. It was time for courage, and for bold
plans.
    Elwytha took a fortifying breath. “Announce
yourself.”
    “ Hagma, miss,” came a small
squeak. “I have tea for you. And water to wash.”
    With relief, she said, “Enter.”
    The other girl hurried in, carrying her
burdens. She scurried about, pouring fresh water in the pottery
wash bowl, and setting the tea pot and cup on the small dresser.
Finished, she wrung her hands, obviously at a loss for what to do
next. “The Commander says if you wish, you may have a bath each
day. I need only know when, so I can prepare it.”
    “ In the same room as
before?” Elwytha asked slyly, thinking of her weapons, snug beneath
the rug.
    “ Nay, miss. The Commander
has another room. You will let me know when you wish to
bathe?”
    “ Perhaps this even, before
supper,” Elwytha suggested, disappointed about the knives, but
pleased about the bath.
    “ Very good, miss. What do
you wish to eat to break your fast this morn?”
    This special treatment surprised Elwytha,
especially since she had refused the services of a maid twice to
the Commander. “You don’t need to wait upon me,” she told the other
girl. “At home I know my way about the kitchens.”
    “ But you are a princess,”
Hagma said with some horror. “And the Commander…he said I am to
take good care of you. And I shall.”
    Elwytha took a quick breath. Was Hagma a spy
for the Commander? Otherwise, what would be his purpose in
pretending courtesy to her? Whatever the case, clearly Hagma bore
no fault. She merely followed orders. Elwytha smiled to put the
girl at ease. “I would like bread, and perhaps fruit.”
    “ Very good. And miss…the
Commander wishes you to join him in the main hall an hour
hence.”
    “ He does?” He did, did he?
Elwytha narrowed her eyes.
    The maid curtseyed and retreated on her
errand.
    Elwytha decided she would meet the Commander
in the hall as he decreed. Otherwise, he may attempt to employ