The Mermaid's Knight (2 page)

The shoreline came closer, and Leah could make out jagged cliffs perched atop the sandy bank. Seated on a nearby rock, Muffin sat in her fluffy yellow and green dress, her purse clutched in her lap. She looked like she was waiting on something — or someone.

The sight of her fairy godmother spurred Leah forward and she swam the distance between the two of them in record time. When the water became too low despite even that and her tail was too heavy to go forward, Leah paused on the rocks, panting. “Muffin,” she called, waving a tired arm in the air frantically. “Muffin! Over here!” The fairy godmother glanced over and waved back. “Hello, dear! Come to shore and we can have a nice talk.”

Frustrated, Leah slapped the water with her hand. “I can’t! You’ve turned me into a half-fish!”

“Not a fish,” Muffin called. “A mermaid. Now come out of the water. I promise it’ll be fine.”

“But I have fins for legs,” Leah protested again. The chill night breeze was getting to her and shivers and goose bumps covered her skin. “How can I get up to where you are if I’m trapped in the water?”

“Silly girl,” Muffin chided. “Once you’re on land, your legs will form again. It’s not like you’re stuck in the water forever. Don’t you know anything about mermaids?” She primped her dry, curly hair and waited.

“Guess not.” Leah muttered. Using her arms, she dragged her body across the submerged rocks and onto the pebbly shore. Once beached, she lay panting, trying to breathe gulps of air that had become too thin for her gills. “I’m… still… a… damn… fish.” Muffin smiled down at her. “Be patient, my dear. Give the magic a chance.” She lay on her back and waited for the magic to kick in. After all, she had little other choice in the matter. Her gills fluttered helplessly as she waited, chest rising and falling as she desperately tried to breathe. It wasn’t working. Panic set in.

She opened her mouth to protest when a violent surge took over her lungs, and they began to burn. The next thing she knew, she was on her stomach, vomiting seawater as her body burned with unnatural heat. The pain in her legs was excruciating as she felt them separate and reform.

It was also over within a matter of moments. Her toes twitched as she took a deep, gasping breath. “Good lord. That was awful.”

She felt Muffin pat her on the head. “I’m sure you’ll get used to it, my dear. It’s the whole exchange between water and sea – the body can’t handle both at once.”

“Why do I have to handle it at all? Why couldn’t you have left me where I was?” Muffin shook her head. “It’s not that simple, my dear. I could have put you back into your body, but that wouldn’t have worked. It’s much easier to start with a clean slate.” Leah struggled to an upright position, feeling like she’d just run a marathon. Her legs trembled, and her arms shook with fatigue. “I don’t understand. Why a mermaid?” The fairy godmother shrugged. “You needed a fairy tale, so I picked for you. It could have been worse. I could have picked Bluebeard.” She patted Leah’s wet head and removed a damp tendril of seaweed. “All you need to do is accomplish your goal and you’ll win a second chance at life.”

“My goal?” Leah sputtered, trying to arrange her hair over her breasts for maximum coverage. It just barely brushed against the tips of her nipples – not nearly as concealing as she’d like. “What goal is this? Is this a contest?” Anger stirred within her. She’d rolled with the punches until now, but this was getting ridiculous.

“My dear,” Muffin said, and gone was the soft, grandmotherly tone in her voice. “Just because I am your fairy godmother does not mean that I can do whatever I like. There are rules

we all have to play by. You must complete your task, and when you do so, you shall have earned the right to continue on your path. No more, no less. Understand?” She leaned down and fixed a baleful, beady eye on Leah, who could only nod in surprise. “Wonderful. Are you familiar with the tale of The Little Mermaid?”

Leah wrapped her arms around her torso, shivering. The wind was biting into her bare skin, and sitting here huddled on the ground wasn’t helping much. Not to mention, the shock of the entire day was finally setting in. “Th-there’s a mermaid,” she ventured, thinking hard. “And she falls in love with a man, and…” She stopped. “And she has to make him fall in love with her within three days or she turns back into sea foam?” Frightened, she clutched Muffin’s hand. “I have three days until I turn into
sea foam
?”

“Three days?” Muffin chuckled. “Of course not, dearie. Don’t be ridiculous. You have a month.”

“A month?” Leah’s voice ended in a near shriek. “A month to make someone fall in love with me?”

There was a shout down the beach, and Muffin stood, straightening her skirts. “Ah, here we are. Your friends shall be here soon, my dear.” She disentangled herself from Leah’s clinging hands. “You must make the prince – well, actually he’s a baron, since princes are dreadfully difficult to come by – fall in love with you in a month’s time or we’ll be taking that trip to Heaven after all.” She gestured to the choppy, gray waves of the sea. “Don’t forget to take your dip back in the sea every day, my girl, or you’ll become ill. Stay away from water and you’ll maintain your human form. Understand?”

“But—”

“And most importantly – you must not let your baron learn your mermaid secret. If he figures out that you can grow a tail, you automatically lose the game. Got it?”

“Wait, no. I don’t want to do this,” Leah protested, clinging to Muffin even as the old woman tried to walk away. “Please, don’t leave me here.” She hobbled after the woman, her legs stinging with each step. “I’m all alone.”

“Not all alone, my dear,” Muffin said. “Royce will be with you. Just remember the voice thing.” She tapped her throat and then waved goodbye. “Good luck!”

“Who goes there?” A shout came down the beach. It was a male voice and an angry one, too. “Halt!”

Muffin vanished at the sound. Leah opened her mouth to protest, but no words came out.

Shocked, her hands went to her throat, and she tried to scream. Nothing but a distressed squeak escaped, and she recalled the other part of
The Little Mermaid
. The mermaid had no voice while she had legs.

Oh, freakin’
wonderful
.

Another male voice sounded behind her, and she heard the jingle of what sounded like armor and the soft neigh of a horse. “Is that a woman?” came a man’s incredulous voice.

Slowly, Leah turned on one of her throbbing feet, her arms crossed over her breasts, and stared into the faces of an entire brigade of knights, mounted on their horses. They were covered in chain mail and carried shields and torches. The one in the front was twice as large as the others, and he wore no helm to mask his cold, stern face.

He scowled down at her. “Who are you, wench? Answer me.” Leah fainted dead away.

Chapter Three

Women always ruined a good, solid plan
, Royce thought. He stared down at the naked one at his feet and frowned, turning to his second in command, Giles. “I thought you said that no one knew we were coming?”

“No one knows, my lord,” Giles protested. “Why would they send a naked wench out here on the beach at night? In a storm?”

The man had a point. The woman
was
rather naked and alone on the sand. He’d seen her wandering from afar, and wasn’t quite sure what to make of her. And when she’d seen them, she’d become frightened and fainted. That marked her as one of the enemy. Still, what to do with her now? His men waited behind him, itching for the signal to attack, and then they would be free to retake his ancestral keep, Northcliffe.

Hell. He was going to have to take her with him.

Ignoring the surge of anger that rushed through him, Royce FitzWarren dismounted from his charger and strode across the sand to stare at the prone body of the woman. He couldn’t tell if she was a lady or a peasant, young or old; her body was covered in sand and gooseflesh. A long sweep of murky dark hair covered her face. He took off his long cloak and wrapped it around her, then tossed her over his shoulder. She had a surprisingly long form for a woman, but her body was light and he hoisted her over his shoulder with no effort, resting her body against the chain hauberk that covered his shoulder.

“Christophe,” he called, looking for his squire.

“Here, my lord,” the boy called.

When Christophe arrived at his side, Royce dumped the girl on the squire. “Take her and keep her out of the way until we’ve taken the castle. I’ll not have a spy wandering back to warn them of what we plan tonight.”

Christophe nodded. “Aye, lord. What should I do if she wakes?” The baron was already scanning the keep nestled atop the high cliff. “Tie her up if you must. Just don’t let her out of your sight.”

Dubious, the squire looked at the burden in his hands. “Aye, lord.” Royce remounted his horse and drew his sword, gesturing to the castle in the distance.

“No longer shall we be kept from what is ours.” He grinned at his men. “Tonight we sleep in
our
keep!”

#

Leah awoke with a pounding headache. Something hard lay beneath her and a soft fabric that reeked of sweat had been flung over her body. She could still smell the sea, but it was not as close as before. The scent of smoke was nearby, and she could hear the soft chatter of men. Her eyes flew open at the last – she must be in the stranger’s camp.

A face loomed over her suddenly, too close for comfort. A scream threatened to rise from her throat, but nothing came out when she opened her mouth other than a strangled gasp.

The face broke into a wide, gap-toothed smile and she focused in, realizing the person staring back at her was a young man. “Awake now, miss?” She sat up slowly, one hand going to her pounding head and nodded. Her surroundings were dark and smoky – it looked like a tent of some sort. She lay half on a metal shield, her legs

sprawled in the mud. A sputtering torch in one corner of the tent gave off the only light, and the rest of the shelter was filled with the scattered clutter of armor and possessions that likely belonged to one of the warriors they had passed on the way in.

“What’s your name, miss?” The boy crouched beside her and offered her a cup of something to drink.

Leah reached for the cup and found it moved just out of her reach again.

“Your name,” the boy pressed. “Or you’ll not be getting a drink.” Frustrated, she tapped her throat, gesturing that she had no voice. She reached for the cup again, only to have it moved out of reach once more.

“I’m afraid that won’t do, miss.” His friendly voice had taken on a hard edge. “If you’re a spy, you won’t be leaving here before you share your secrets with the Lord FitzWarren. He’ll get it out of you.”

A spy? That was ridiculous. Leah gestured at her throat again, growing irritated with the boy’s game. She tried to mime that she couldn’t speak, but he ignored her, turning and replacing the cup in the bucket nearby and then taking it with him when he stood.

“You’re to stay here until the master returns,” the boy commanded. “If you move, I’ll have no choice but to tie you up, and I don’t think either of us will like that. Understand?” Leah nodded, scowling. She hugged the sweaty length of cloth closer to her naked body.

How on earth was she going to communicate with anyone if she couldn’t speak to them? If they thought her a spy, she was in a big mess of trouble. Given the fact that she couldn’t speak to defend herself, they’d all think she was a liar.

Damn fairy godmothers.

The tent flap flew open a short time later, and a cold breeze swept in, brushing the salty tangles of Leah’s hair off her shoulders. Leah craned her neck in anticipation, trying to see who entered. If it was Muffin, she’d forgive the batty old woman for her meddling if she’d just get her out of this mess. She hugged the cloak closer to her and stared at the large figure that stood in the doorway, blocking out the light from the torches.

It wasn’t Muffin. Though his face was shadowed, she knew instinctively from the sheer bulk of his form that this was the leader from before, the one who had scowled down at her from his massive horse. She clutched the cloak tighter about her and wished that she had more separating her from the strange man than just a smelly cloak.

He was handsome; she’d give him that much. His face was a study in long, chiseled lines, and his nose was a tad too large and sharp, making his features hawkish and stern. Ragged locks of black hair brushed against his shoulders, plastered against his head with sweat, and he lifted a hand to brush them aside. His eyes were dark and the set of his finely-sculpted mouth was grim.

Leah watched him as he moved inside the tent and sat down on a stool across from her, pulling off a shirt of chain-mail links. His squire rushed over to help him, and his eyes turned to her once he was free from the confines of the vest. She could see that his padded shirt underneath was soaked with sweat and a darker rust color that she hoped wasn’t blood. He scratched at the sweaty clothing and gave her a lazy, bored look. “Has she talked yet?” he asked the squire.

“Nay, my lord,” the squire responded, sounding quite disgusted with the fact. “She will not speak. How fares the battle for the keep?”

“Well. It goes well.” The lord looked rather weary, but a hint of a smile touched his mouth. “With luck, we should be breaching the walls before tomorrow evening.”

“That is good news, my lord,” the squire enthused, handing him the dipper of water. The stranger drank two full dippers in front of Leah and sighed with delight afterward.

Irritated and thirsty, Leah scowled at the two of them and rather hoped they’d leave. He looked like he was a rather foul type, conquering someone else’s castle. Muffin had made a huge mistake in sending her here. No way was she going to try and seduce this guy into falling in love with her just so she could have a second chance at a life.

She thought of her dead body, sprawled over the hood of her car, and remembered Muffin’s words. “
I can send you to Heaven right now, if you wish.”
Not exactly a stellar option.

Leah wanted to live, and badly. A lone tear streaked down her cheek and she brushed it away, angry that she’d cry in front of the strangers.