Victory by Jacquelyn Frank

Author:Jacquelyn Frank [Frank, Jacquelyn]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: BIN 08431-02724
Publisher: Changeling Press LLC
Published: 2018-06-01T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Four

Melena was forced to wait in camp as the battle between the brothers raged. She demanded frequent reports from a slave running back and forth from the field. She grew angry and frustrated when the slave did not appear as quick as she liked. All she could do was pace and wring her hands.

She knew Valerian. He would not be content to sit back and let his men fight alone. He would risk his neck right alongside of them. For that she was angry with Valerian. She understood… but that didn’t make her frustration less.

The slave burst back into the tent and Melena stormed up to him. “Well?” she demanded before the man could even catch his breath. He had clearly run the entire way. “Tell me!”

“The tide has turned,” the slave gulped. “Our forces overwhelm the emperor’s. Our lord --” He stopped, panting for breath, and Melena grabbed him and shook him in her frustration.

“What? What of Valerian?!”

“He has taken a wound. Nothing too serious as I understand it, but it has forced him to fall back behind his men.”

“Oh no!” A wound? What kind of wound? Where? Wounds were dangerous. What didn’t seem drastic on the field of battle could become deadly over time. Infection could set in and the bearer of the wound could die.

At least he had had the sense to fall back. She took comfort in knowing that he was no longer in the thick of battle. She hastened to send the slave back to the field, after grudgingly allowing him a cup of mulled wine. She did not care if he was tired or thirsty. If Valerian could fight for the sake of others, then this slave could run for Melena’s sake.

When the slave returned an hour later, Melena was beside herself. She had struggled on and off with tears. What if the tide turned against Valerian? What if there were unknown troops waiting to reinforce Vicktor… troops that were not tired from battle? Any number of things were possible. What if somehow Valerian was captured? Vicktor would put him to death without a second thought.

Or would he? Perhaps he would torture his brother first. With that thought she began to imagine all the ways he could hurt Valerian.

The appearance of the slave had her heart struggling between soaring and plummeting. What had happened? What was happening?

Then the tent flap raised in the slave’s wake and Valerian walked in. He was heavily armored, heavily soiled, and there was blood running down his left side.

He was alive. He had come back to her! She disregarded everything and threw herself into his arms. He caught her then tried to put her aside. “I am dirty and bloody.”

“I don’t care,” she replied.

He had blood on his face, in his hair, and all over his armor… but the biggest concentration of it was under his left arm. She immediately went about the task of stripping his armor away, the hard leather coming away into her hands and revealing a severe gash under his arm.

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