The Captain's Vow

CHAPTER THREE
Rules

A/N : I changed the previous chapter’s name to ‘Declarations’. Pardon the switcheroo. In edit hell for other authors with SP. So few reviews here per hits, yet hate mail from members here in abundance. This is my relaxation project to counteract the negative.

Hope you enjoy.

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Rennar schooled his response. “I’m giving a command, young Arelia. Return to chambers.”

The pale-haired youth inclined his head. “I shall do as you bid. Just know I have reached a score turns of the seasons. Perhaps, I am not so young, sir.”

Hearing his own gruffness, he barked, “Do as you’re told.” He watched as his valuable and perhaps too ambitious charge took his leave.

Rennar inhaled deeply, wondering why the boy – man by age law – infuriated him so. Perhaps the initial silence followed by forwardness.

He walked back out into the main hall. The courtesans had begun their nightly, organized recruiting.

One very beautiful woman wearing a courtesan’s torque, with ankle-length, wavy, red-brown hair walked toward him. She wore a near-transparent garment making the most of her lovely form. “Sir Rennar, allow me to make an introduction.” Her green eyes held a wealth of sensuality. “My name’s Katrine.” Holding out one elegant hand with carefully manicured nails, she said, “Ever so pleased to make formal acquaintance.”

He accepted and brought her hand to his mouth to place a kiss upon it. “Katrine, I have noted your avoidance of other men.” Releasing her hand he queried, “Why me?”

She met his gaze with the honesty, professionalism and the sensuality of her vocation. “You’re a man of principle. I admire that.”

In all cold-blooded business thinking, he inquired, “Would you like to become my mistress?”

Her green eyes seemed to glitter with satisfaction. “Very much, my lord.”

“I’m no lord.” He mentally sorted details. “Have you private chambers?”

“A small apartment, sir.”

“Expect me after the evening meal.”

He enjoyed her.

Katrine proved soft, silken and as enticingly female as submissive. She tasted wonderful and smelled better than childhood recall of favorite sweets.

Rennar kissed her and departed, still wondering how so many proved watery in bed as those he had encountered. He had to try dismissing the thought. He’d only bedded women and the times they lived in demanded submission in that gender. Even the woman he intended to employ as his regular release fell shy in his estimation.

As he turned the knob of his chambers, he smelled the temple incense he liked.

Rennar noted Wylim slept on his pallet.

The other remained empty.

Young Arelia had sought his nightly sport elsewhere despite orders.

Rennar strode through the sitting room and solarium to his bed chamber. He intended to wash and seek out his valuable charge. Closing the door, he used a tender kit to light an oil lamp. The fragrance of that incense wafted. Puzzled, Rennar blinked to clear his vision and adapt to the relative darkness.

“Did she satisfy you?”

Arelia’s voice sent a stab of surprise through Rennar. He turned and saw the boy seated in a chair. A burning stick of the temple incense sending up coiling smoke rested in a burner upon the table at the nobleman’s left.

“Not any of your affair,” he responded. “Hie to your pallet, young Arelia. Clearly your nocturnal endeavors have caused you to exceed your bedtime.”

With his shoulder-length, almost white hair and pale skin, he seemed a wraith as he stood. “She didn’t. Did she?” Wearing naught save breeches, he sauntered closer.

Rennar’s temper simmered even as he caught the scent of young Arelia. It combined expensive oil of vanilla and virile, healthy man. He strode to the young nobleman, gripped his arm, and towed him to the door. “Out,” he commanded as he removed the other male. “Never again make so bold as to enter the room where I slumber without given permission.”

Slamming the portal, he considered the matter concluded.

Katrine remained modest and submissive in the main hall as they broke their fast. The hierarchy of the courtesans granted her the apex standing by virtue of his superior rank. Rennar gave her the most gentle dismissal he could to ensure his ability to sit down and eat in silence and solitude.

Bane Fulvy slid in at his side. “Talk is you’ve secured both that boy and the whore, captain.”

Rennar cut into his meat. “Talk is most often just that.” He refused to allow his personal feelings toward the man to cause him to overreact.

“I shall purvey that sentiment to any seeking to bend my ear with a falsehood, sir.”

Less likely than the virgin Goddess Lalunah offering to herself as patroness to soldiers, he thought. “As well you should, Swordsman Fulvy. Your commanding officer’s reputation reflects upon you.” In his periphery, he saw that hit home in the other man’s expression. Deciding to give the canker something beneficial to do, Rennar set down his two-tined fork and dining dagger. He picked up his apple cider. “Take your squad and oversee cutting of timber to repair the merchants’ houses outside the castle walls.”

“Aye, sir. Your leave?”

Rennar inclined his head. “You have it.”


He threw himself into labor. Following an attack, a castle wanted many repairs. Grain stores needed seen to, livestock inventoried, and the people who had suffered as the military clashed, deserved care.

Rennar appointed men to oversee reconstruction, mercy efforts and diplomacy. His fealty lord, Sangire, had sent word for him to hold this place as his own following different orders. That meant Rennar found himself making this holding his oath lord’s possession through his own doing.

He spent days laboring to mend the wrought destruction and restore order, evenings speaking with his men, and nights with his mistress. Quiet rhythm became the rule.

Yet, he felt the presence of his charge.


Rennar rose from the trestle table hosting trenchers filled with the evening meal. To his unhappy surprise, he saw young Arelia socializing with courtiers. The young man’s clothing fit him so closely it left little to the imagination.

When had the lad’s shoulders broadened, Rennar wondered. Surely the fellow’s body could not have altered so abruptly?

He strode through the crowd to nudge his way to his charge. “Good eventide, Young Aurelia.”

The bold youth smiled slightly. “And to you. The court counts your merciful greatness in my freedom.”

Not one to endure manipulation, Rennar returned the words of seeming cordiality. “As I am sure they shall praise my protectiveness given your station. Return to your quarters, Arelia.”

Only the bright blue eyes of his rebellious charge defied his modest response. “Humbly, sir.”