Lord of the Blade Read Online Free PDF Page B

but the mothering baroness who only made
him soft.
    Even when the baron sent Corbett off to
serve King Edward III, four years earlier fighting in the Battle of
Crecy, Malcomn was forced to stay behind by the domineering hand of
his doting mother. Though many a squire his age had gone, he could
only dream of handling the longbow with the expertise of the fierce
archers that came home triumphant, as heroes of war.
    The baroness had convinced the baron that
Malcomn was too young when in reality King Edward's son, the Black
Prince, was but a mere two years older than he at sixteen years of
age yet commanded a division at the battle, and from it rose to
fame.
    Corbett knew Malcomn was envious of anyone
who had what he wanted. The boy didn't even have the chance of
being fostered as was proper. Malcomn always wished he could have
been what Corbett became. Malcomn had always craved Corbett's
attention but Corbett hadn't cared enough for him to give it.
Corbett knew that any boy who let his mother control him would
never be a warrior. No woman should have such power over a man and
he despised the baroness for somehow turning the baron himself into
a mouse.
    "I'm at your side." Malcomn pushed past
Corbett out the door and Corbett looked back to Devon.
    "Stay here until I call for you," he
ordered. "Mayhap you can take pointers from Malcomn's servant girl
in how to please your lord."
    "And how may that be?" Devon asked coldly.
"By warming your bed, m'lord?"
    Corbett let his eyes run down Devon's body
and the thought of her warming his bed pleased him. The thought of
her coming up with the suggestion pleased him even more.
    "That'll be good to start. Then have her
teach you how to serve wine."

Chapter 4
     
     
    Devon picked up Corbett’s goblet and threw
it across the room, just missing his raven. The bird squawked and
fluttered away out the open window.
    “You mustn’t do that.” Malcomn’s maidservant
rushed over and picked it up, wiping it clean on the hem of her
cotehardie and gingerly placing it back on the table.
    Devon shook her head. “But the things he
expects me to do - ”
    “Are a servant’s duties,” the blond girl
finished for her.
    Devon admired the petite girl for her
loyalty, but wondered if she’d ever tired of trying to please her
lord. Her large brown eyes looked up to Devon, and she smiled
shyly. Devon guessed her to be about the same age as herself, but
her body was much smaller.
    “My name is Devon. What is yours?”
    “I’m Leahla.” She pushed a stray strand of
hair behind her ear, twirling it once around her finger. “You
haven’t been a servant at the castle long, have you?”
    “No,” stated Devon. “And neither do I intend
to keep up the charade. I am not a servant, but of noble
blood.”
    Leahla dipped into an extended curtsy.
“Forgive me, I had no idea.”
    Devon pulled her back to a standing
position. “You need not do that, Leahla. I have no proof of my
heritage, so for now I am your equal. But even if I was titled, I
would treat you no differently.”
    “Oh, yes, you must,” Leahla assured her. “I
am only a servant.”
    Devon didn’t like the word ‘only’. A servant
Leahla may be, but she was a person just the same. If only Devon
ruled, things would be different. She sat down on the bed with the
girl.
    “Leahla, tell me. Don’t you tire of
succumbing to Lord Malcomn’s needs?”
    “I am his servant. He has chosen me
personally.”
    “To warm his bed.”
    Leahla’s face blushed but she smiled.
    “Leahla! Do not tell me you enjoy coupling
on command?”
    “You will learn to do it and like it as
well. Lord Corbett is very handsome.”
    Devon jumped to her feet. “I have no
intention of coupling with Lord Corbett.”
    “Oh, but you must. I’ve seen the way Lord
Corbett looks at you. He has feelings for you, just as Lord Malcomn
does for me. You are special to him.”
    Devon fantasized that thought for a moment,
wondering what it would feel like to be in Lord