Lords of Darkness and Shadow Read Online Free PDF

could find, which happened to be a well-used ash shovel propped up near the hearth. She raised it like a club just as an enormous figure emerged from the dark hallway and into the weak light of the room.
    It was de Russe. He spied Ellowyn pressed against the far wall with a small, dented shovel in her hand.  She was poised, ready to brain him if he came any closer. He paused in the open door, inspecting the woman who was half-illuminated by the firelight.
    “Are you planning on using that?” he asked somewhat drolly.
    He was nodding his head in the direction of the shovel.  Ellowyn’s attention flickered between Brandt’s face and the spade in her hands, not wanting to admit that it looked rather ridiculous. It was like trying to fight off a bull with a twig. But she didn’t lower the shovel.
    “That depends,” she said. “What am I doing here?”
    He came in to the room, slowly, and shut the door.  He didn’t want to make any sudden movements because he could see that she was genuinely frightened.
    “I brought you here,” he said. “You fainted.”
    Ellowyn thought hard on her last memories of the angry knight and de Russe’s involvement in... something. She couldn’t quite remember.  After a moment, she shook her head.
    “I do not remember much,” she admitted. “What happened?”
    Brandt shrugged. “You were overwrought, I assume,” he said. “You fainted in the street so I brought you back to the inn and secured a room.  You were wet so I put you in front of the fire to dry off.”
    Her gaze flicked up to the hanging surcoat. “Did… did you remove the coat?”
    He nodded. “I did, but one of the tavern wenches assisted. Never was I alone with you, I swear.”
    It was a rather chivalrous statement and something he wanted to be clear on. Ellowyn eyed him; she had known a lot of knights in her life, as her father and grandfather were great knights, and it was her grandfather who had taught her to be a good judge of character.  He had instilled the caution and the protocols in her. 
    From the moment she’d met the Duke of Exeter, he’d come across as arrogant and rude, that was true, but never lascivious.  He wanted her to be clear that he’d not molested her and her instincts told her to believe him.  At that moment, she started to see something more in the man, not simply the haughty warrior.
    More than that, he was starting to make some sense about the situation so she slowly lowered the shovel. As she eyed him, she also recalled the army he had dumped on her, leaving her to fend for the shelter and nourishment of nearly six hundred men. Her head was throbbing and she was feeling nauseous, made worse now that her memory was returning. She was remembering every sickening and frightening thing. With a heavy sigh, she tossed the shovel aside.
    “I thank you for your concern for my safety,” she replied, “but I have several hundred of my father’s men I must attend to. If you will kindly vacate the chamber, I shall dress and be gone.”
    Brandt shook his head. “It is not necessary,” he told her. “I have tended to the men.”
    She regarded him some doubt. “Why would you do that? They are no longer your concern.  At least, that is what you told me.”
    He could feel the brittle peace between them and sensed she was not particularly the forgiving type.  At least, not with him.  Not that he blamed her. He’d had a momentary flash of guilt when she had fainted and had sought to make amends by taking charge of her welfare.  Now he was starting to feel stupid for allowing himself to feel any compassion for her.  The woman was still as hostile towards him as she had ever been.
    “My concern is with the men,” he said. “With you incapacitated, someone had to tend the weary troops so I took the initiative.”
    Truth be told, Ellowyn felt marginally better knowing she didn’t have to worry over housing and feeding all of those men this night.  However, along with her relief was