Here is the first chapter of an unfinished, unsubmitted and completely un-edited story I was working on last year. It has been put aside so I could work on the current series, the first book of which has been accepted by Liquid Silver.

Lisell is the daughter of a well to do merchant in the capital city in the Empire of Helta, a mythical pre-industrial empire loosely based on Rome, but the people are more Germanic than Latin. Helta has been conquering what they consider barbarian lands, like the desert kingdom of Erabir for hundreds of years. As is the custom in Thess, her parents are throwing a coming of age ball to mark her 21st birthday. She is practically engaged to her father’s partner, Edvart Braun. Lisell is okay with marrying Edvart, but she would like to have a little adventure first. Feel free to comment. Enjoy!
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It was probably her composure that saved her life that night when the man who told her to call him Mate stepped through her bedroom window. Lisell had been sleeping for about an hour when she was gradually roused by a racket in the street below. The sound of marching boots and fists hammering on doors came clearly through the window she had left open so the night air could cool her room. It sounded like a search was going on—an unsuccessful one. The sounds went from one house in the square to the next, pounding on doors and demanding in the name of the Emperor to be admitted to search the premises. Disturbed, Lisell sat up in bed and reached to light the lamp on her bedside table.

But she hesitated when a shadow shifted at the heavy draperies at her window, and a slight whisper of sound came to her. She didn’t scream or even gasp when she realized the shadow was of a man, and she saw light gleam briefly along the blade of the naked sword he carried. She watched, perfectly still, as the dim figure drifted soundlessly across the room to the door. He paused as a series of thunderous knocks rattled the front door.

Lisell wondered what he looked like. Who was he? A burglar? Or worse. The Imperial Guard wouldn’t be chasing a burglar; that would be left to the City Watch.

“Out of our way, oaf!” shouted a searcher downstairs. “By writ of His Imperial Majesty we have leave to search this house.”

The quavering voice of their butler was frightened. “But, Sir, what are you looking for?”

“Move, old man! We’re hot on the heels of a criminal. Woe to the one who lets him escape.”

The dark figure at her door suddenly jerked around. It was hard to tell in the dark, but she thought he was looking around. Surely he couldn’t have seen her in the dark, but he lunged suddenly for the bed. Of course, that was the logical place for someone to be at night in a bedroom. Thank all the gods that his sword was at his side instead of held out in front of him or he would have killed her.

“Don’t hurt me!” she said quietly, calmly. “I promise I won’t give you away.”

In the dark his face was only a pale blur between his dark clothes and his dark head covering. His hand was a whisper of white against his dark clothes when he reached out to cup her cheek. “I’ll never hurt you, I swear it.”

Heavy footsteps raced up the stairs and along the hall to her bedroom. The man looked sharply around the room. “Hide me,” he demanded. “Where can I hide?”

Lisell’s placid calm did not fail her. Rapidly she considered and rejected the obvious places: behind the curtains, under the bed, in the closet. Careful to avoid his sword, she hopped out of bed and went to the toy chest she had emptied of her childhood toys just that afternoon. She lifted the lid.

“Hurry,” she ordered steadily. “Get in.”

He didn’t hesitate. Being slim, he was able to fold himself tightly enough to fit. But his sword didn’t. Reluctantly, he gave it to her. “Be careful. It’s very sharp. I’m trusting you.”

She nodded, which he probably couldn’t see in the dark, and shut and locked the box. She draped a robe over the box and tossed some of her stuffed animals on top and wrapped the sword in a towel. Then she hurried to the bed and leaped in just as the door began to open. She shoved the sword under the covers along her leg and squeaked when the sharp blade went through the mattress with sharp slicing sound.

Luckily a squeak was perfectly acceptable from a young woman being woken in the dead of night by strange armed men bursting into her bedroom. Lisell had no trouble appearing confused and frightened in the sudden glow of the lamp the soldiers held high as they tramped into her room. Her father rushed in behind them, his scant graying blond hair ruffled with outrage.

“This is my daughter’s room!” he protested. “She’s tender young lady of virtue and no man should be in this room but me, her father!”
Lisell played to his lead and cowered down with the sheet pulled up to her chin. She even tried for some tears. “Wha–? Papa, what is happening?”

“There, there, child, don’t be alarmed. These men are looking for a dangerous criminal.”

“In here?” Lisell’s voice had exactly the right mix of fear and amazement.

Her father turned back to the soldiers. “As you can see, my daughter’s room is empty.”

The soldiers were not satisfied. They looked under the bed, tore her clothes out of the closet, even kicked the toy chest. Lisell hoped they didn’t ask her to get out of her bed. If they found the sword…
But no, they left soon afterward to search other rooms, and finally left the house. Her mother tottered in shortly after that, and sat on her bed sobbing. The soldiers had torn the sewing room apart, and the beautiful gown that was being made for the ball had been damaged. The party would be ruined, her mother wailed. Her lovely daughter would never find a good husband without the proper dress. What would people think if they didn’t have the perfect dress?

During this rant Lisell wondered if the man had enough air in the trunk. It took Lisell nearly a half hour to sooth her mother and send her back to her own bed, but she had been soothing her mother’s jitters for years, so she knew just how to do it.

The man had been locked in the cramped toy chest for over an hour before she was able to let him out. He must have been stiff, but he stood lithely enough and stretched a bit before stepping out of the box as if he had been reclining in a comfortable chair. She wished she could see him, but she didn’t want to light the lamp for fear of attracting attention. She had to peer hard into the gloom to see him at all, and even then he remained a blur.

“I believe,” she said composedly, “there are still guards in the street looking for you. It would surely not be wise for you to leave yet.”

His teeth glowed momentarily in the dark as he grinned. “You’re a cool one,” he remarked with admiration. “Where’s my sword?”

Lisell turned to carefully pull it out of the bedclothes and let the shredded towel fall away. She cautiously handed it to him hilt first. It was probably a beautiful weapon, the thing sort of thing that a man would cherish. She had never touched a sword before, and it was heavier than she had expected. She wondered, briefly and uneasily, if he had ever killed anyone with it.

He sheathed it quietly and stepped closer. Too close. “So what’s my guardian angel’s name?” he asked half mockingly.

Lisell took a step back, but he followed. “What’s yours?”

“Oh, I’ve got lots of names. I’d like you to call me Mate. Now how about you? What’s your name?”

Mate? Was that really a name? She didn‘t think so. It was sort of like a slang term for calling someone Buddy or Friend, wasn’t it? But what did it matter? She would never have any conversation with him after tonight. “My name is Lisell.”

“Lisell. Very pretty. But to me you’ll always be my guardian angel. Wanna know why they were after me?”

“Not in the least,” she answered primly.

He chucked. “A woman who knows her mind.” His hands grazed the sides of her face, seeking out her braid to loosen it. “I like that. Brave and sensible. Tell me, are you beautiful too?”

“No, barely passable.” She tried to step back again, but he had crowded her against the bed post. His hands were deft in her braid.

“Brave, sensible and modest! A pity we can’t light the lamp. But your scent is sweet, and you feel soft and rounded in all the right places. Tell me, are you old enough to marry?”

Even placid Lisell was startled by that, so startled that she stopped trying to edge away, leaving his fingers free rein in her braid. “I—I guess so. At least, I will be in a week.”

“Splendid.” He pushed himself against her, startling her again with the heat of his body. “Let’s run away together.”

Lisell recovered and slid away from the weight of his body pushing her against the bed post, removing her unraveling braid from his hand. “No, thank you,” she replied politely.

“And witty!’ he laughed again. And the sound of his laugh made her insides shift. “Really, I do believe I’ll have to return in the daylight to court you.”

“I’ve told you I’m not pretty,” she said dampeningly.

The voice of the man who told her to call him Mate was flatly sincere. “The minute I walked into this room and you hid me in that box you became the most beautiful woman in the world. I plan to get to know you better.”

“That could be difficult,” commented Lisell dryly, “considering that you are a wanted criminal.”

“But I’m not,” he protested innocently.

“Really,” she murmured in polite disbelief. Now that he wasn’t crowding her she missed the feel of him. Her boredom had vanished. She felt more alive than she ever had before. “Has anyone told that to the Imperial Guard?”

“They have no sense of humor. The whole thing started when the Minister of War found me going through his papers.”

“And he took offence at that?” she guessed.

“He’s a narrow minded man,” he explained, off hand. ”I didn’t really feel like chatting with him, so I slipped out his window.”

“And in mine.”

Mate smiled, a quick slash of white. “It was open. So handy, you see.”

He reached out and closed his hands over her shoulders and pulled her hard against him. Her nightgown was thin and she could feel his belt buckle biting into her belly. His hands smoothed up and down her back, playing in her loosened hair. It was a novel feeling, to be so close to someone. Her body tingled between her legs. She was innocent, but not stupid. However deliciously exciting this was, it was wrong. But when she tried to push him away, he merely wrapped his arms around her and squeezed her hard against him.

“I don’t want to frighten you, but I have to feel you. You are mine,” he whispered.

“You don’t frighten me,’ she said steadily.

“So your heart is pumping so hard because your body drips with passion for me?”

She made her voice cold. “I’m a respectable girl. A lady. Not a strumpet.”

His breath was hot on her shoulder when he bent and leaned his cheek against the side of her neck. “So I’ll try to be a gentleman. For you. Only for you, angel. How old are you?”

“A gentleman does not ask a lady her age.” She made her voice just like Madam Groot’s, the school mistress, when one of the girls had said something truly rude.

It seemed he was reluctant to let her go, but his arms fell, and he stepped back. “You are a lady, but you seem young to me. Too young to worry about becoming decrepit. How old are you, angel?”

“I’ll be twenty one next week.”

“Your parents are having a party?”

Lisell supposed he had heard her mother speak of it while he had been in the box. “Yes, next Friday night we’re having a ball to introduce me to society.”

“Society? Or prospective husbands?

She couldn’t sure but she thought he sounded intense. Jealous? But it was hard to be sure, because his voice had been faintly shadowed with a foreign accent. She hadn’t noticed it before. She had thought he was Heltan, but what she had first taken for a dark head covering was just his hair. No full blooded Heltan had dark hair.

“Both,” she replied. “Although it’s a waste of time. I’ll marry Edvart Braun.”

“Edvart Braun.” There was a hint of a snarl in his voice. “Do you want to marry Edvart Braun? Do you love him?”

She shrugged. “I like him. He’s a good man. My father would be pleased. Edvart is his partner. He’s a steady man with a kind heart.”

“He sounds boring. Don’t marry him. Run away with me tonight.”

“What? And miss my ball?” asked Lisell in exaggerated horror.

A low chuckle rippled out of him. “I’ve never been turned down for a
party before.”

“Oh? And I suppose you run away with women all the time?”

“Hardly ever. I can’t seem to find a woman willing to go away with me. They always turn me down. The ladies just don’t take me seriously.”

“What a shame,” Lisell sympathized. “You don’t suppose it has anything to do with the fact that you’re not serious, do you?”

“I am serious!” he protested. “This time. You’re the woman for me. Climb out the window with me now. I swear I’ll take good care of you.”

“Well, I certainly appreciate the invitation. But I simply can’t miss my party. My parents have invited everyone, from the Emperor to foreign ambassadors. Why, if the Princes from Erabir come it will be the party of the season.” She spoke lightly. “Surely you can see that I can’t miss it.”

“My feelings are hurt, Angel. You must be the daughter of a duke at least. And I am not invited to your party?””

Lisell sighed. “Actually, my father is a merchant who has done very well in negotiating trading contracts with rich colonies like New Helta and the Hills. But my mother likes to think that we can advance socially through marriage. My marriage. She would probably like to offer me to the Imperial Harem. Luckily even she can see that I’m not pretty enough for that.”

“Angel, you’d be wasted in a harem. You’re too special to be buried with a lot of other women at the whim of one man. You deserve to be a princess at least, not a neglected imperial concubine. What do you think of one of them Erabiri princes? One of them would make you a good husband. Not as boring as good old Edvart, anyway.”

“That wouldn’t work at all. They are far too bloodthirsty. In the unlikely event that they actually come to my ball I’d be too nervous to even speak to them. Besides, they live in the wilderness across the
ocean. I’d miss home.”

“Well, scratch them, then,” sighed Mate regretfully. He lifted his head and smoothed back his dark hair. “But that means you can still change your mind and run away with me.”

“I’m afraid not.”

“Darn. Can’t blame a man for trying.” His blurred profile turned towards the window and back to her. “Well, it ought to be safe now to leave, although I hate the idea of going away from my Angel. One last chance: will you come away with me?”

“Sorry.”

She followed him to the window, feeling strangely reluctant to say good bye to a criminal. He had certainly been entertaining. And even that inappropriate embrace had been… interesting. Maybe it should have frightened her, but really it had only made her want more.

“Answer one question for me,” he ordered.

Surprised by this sudden seriousness, she nodded.

“Are you a virgin?”

For once her usual composure deserted her. “I beg your pardon!”

“It’s important. I need to know how fast I can go with you.”

“I’m not going anywhere with you.”

“My, my, Angel, you sound alarmed.”

“I’m not alarmed. I’m angry. Maybe you think that because I’ve flirted more than I should have that you have the right to insult me– You should leave now.”

“I’ll leave. And I don’t mean to insult you. Obviously you are a virgin. I’m glad. That makes it easier for me to be a gentleman. But I want a
good night kiss. Please.”

“That’s not a good idea,” she said stiffly.
At least, that’s what she started to say. But somehow she found herself in his arms, crushed to his chest with his mouth hot and open on hers. She tried to pull back, but his kiss changed, became gentle and coaxing. She felt his tongue glide into her mouth, like hot wet velvet stroking over her tongue. Really, it was the most amazing thing she had ever experienced. The gentle warmth that she had been feeling between her legs ever since he had embraced her earlier bloomed into a raging fire. She wasn’t sure if the thrust of his lower body against hers was putting out the fire or adding fuel to it. When he finally let her go she staggered and would have fallen if he hadn’t steadied her.

“You won’t forget me,” he said smugly.

He let her go and swung one leg over the window frame. It was slightly lighter here, and she could see that he wasn’t smiling, his eyes dark pits of shadow in a pale beardless face. But she couldn’t make out his features. “Be well, Angel. I will never forget what you did for me tonight.”

She swallowed. “Good bye, Mate. Be careful going down.”

Now his white grin flashed. “I’m not going down. I’m going up.”

She watched as he slid silently out the window. Lisell wished she could hang out the window to watch him climb, but she didn’t dare. Instead she went back to bed and pulled the covers high. While brushing her hair tonight she had wished for some excitement in her drab life. Mate, with his light hearted banter edged with romantic daring and hot embraces, had supplied that. A life time with Edvart Braun now looked depressingly flat.