Read Online Wild Is My Love by Janelle Taylor - Free Book Online Page B

passageway. She shuddered at the thought of entering it alone and walking the great distance to her father’s chambers. No doubt, with the height of the river, the escape hole was underwater. Only the steep slope of the riverbank keptwater from flooding the tunnel and steps, if its use was ever required.
    Cautiously Alysa slipped from her tower and edged her way along the inner wall to the Great Tower. Sighting no one who would stop her, she raced up the steps past the kitchen and quietly approached her father’s chamber door. She was relieved, yet worried, to find no guard or servant on duty there. She knew Baltair, his seneschal and advisor, was handling business for him at Lord Orin’s.
    She eased the door open slightly and listened for company. Hearing nothing, she sneaked into the dim sitting room and gazed about. The room seemed smelly and damp, and sad, almost as if it were trying to discourage life and visitors. Only two candlesticks—one near the entrance to the hall and one near the entrance to Alric’s sleeping chamber—were lit, and their glow was hardly visible in the large area. Massive wood furniture appeared oppressive without warm light to reveal the wood grains and workmanship. Even thick drapes were closed over unopened windows, preventing fresh air and fragrant scents from entering the room. Not even a small fire smoldered on the oversized hearth in a dark corner. No papers, books, or quills cluttered his huge writing table. It was as if this chamber was never used or aired. No wonder her father’s mood was persistently gloomy!
    Alysa crossed the floor and stood before her father’s inner door. How strange to feel nervous about visiting him. She wondered if she should knock or simply push the door aside and enter; she did the latter. This was the first time she had been in her father’s chambers in several weeks, and she was shocked and angered to discover the way her father was existing, or being abused. At least a servant should be present to tend him!
    The curtains were secured to the posts at each corner of the huge bed, which seemed to swallow the formlying on it. The room was damp and malodorous, like a dank, unused cellar, and she wondered how he could endure such unpleasant and unhealthy surroundings. Why had Baltair done nothing to correct this unforgivable condition? Why had she not been informed of it? When morning came, she would demand to speak to Isobail about this matter.
    She flung aside the heavy coverings and opened several windows, inhaling the sweet odors of the evening air. The muffled sounds of animals, night birds, and people’s voices ended the deathly silence in the room. She lit every candle she could find to dispel the dispiriting darkness. “Father?” Alysa called to him as she sat down on the edge of his bed.
    Alric’s face was sweaty and pale. Though fifty years old, he looked much older tonight, older and weaker than when she had been allowed to see him last: two weeks ago. The sandy brown shade of his hair was losing its battle with lifeless gray, and its curls had vanished. Only years ago his body had been as taut as an archer’s bowstring and as golden as ripe wheat, but now it was flaccid and white. His profile had been that of a man of royalty; now it was marred like a chipped blade. Where was the handsome, strong, and valiant man he had once been? Alysa wondered sadly as tears glimmered in her blue eyes.
    “Father?” she called to him again, stroking his clammy brow. “Are you ill? Shall I fetch you something?”
    Alric stirred slightly. It seemed as if he were sinking into a bottomless pit at a very slow pace. He felt weak and lifeless, as if it were easier to yield to the forces pulling him ever downward rather than battling to escape his trap. He heard his child calling to him, and he knew he had to find the strength to answer her. Soon, he feared, all of his strength would be gone forever. Soon he would pay for his foul misdeeds. If onlythe gods