Page 19 of His Noble Savior (Folk of Vale #3)
Richard
Richard, pacing as he talked, was deep in conversation with Bellerose when a hair-raising scream rended the air. Lilian! Richard stopped in his tracks. Where had the scream come from? It sounded like it’d originated outside, the cry lacking the echo of the tall castle walls.
He stared at Bellerose, swearing to God he’d kill her if she’d done anything to hurt Lilian, but she looked as surprised as he did. Richard rushed over to the window and ripped it open. He couldn’t think of a reason why Lilian would be outside, but that was where the shriek had come from.
Cool morning air hit Richard as he leaned outside. He blinked at the scene unfolding at the base of the hill.
An orc with long, silver-blond hair stood where the trees gave way to the grass running up the mound to the castle. A few steps behind him stood Nathan, frozen mid-motion. Down the slope, Lilian was dashing away between the trees, running for his life.
Richard tore away. He wrested the family sword from its mount and stormed through the door. He flew down the stairs. In the great hall, the steward stepped out of her chamber, roused by his trampling down the staircase.
“There’s an orc at the foot of the hill,” Richard shouted in her direction. “Send the knights after me.”
He sprinted out of the castle. It was stupid. He should wait for the knights instead of going after the orc alone. An orc who’d captured Nathan and sent Lilian running. Richard didn’t care. He only thought about Lilian.
If Bellerose wanted to marry Richard, she’d have to engage her knights. George and Resh might’ve heard too. Richard would have to hold his own until reinforcements joined him.
Everything in him screamed for Lilian. He had to get to him, but that meant getting through the orc first. The orc who had his brother. Richard was going to slice him to pieces.
Behind him, the doors to the barracks groaned as they opened, then slammed shut. The gravel crunched under the hurried steps of the knights, and they joined Richard as he raced through the gate and down the mound.
Sword raised, he charged the orc, ready to run him through.
Nathan threw himself between Richard and the beast. “No!”
What the hell was he doing? Richard arrested his attack lest he cut down his brother. Nathan stared at him with big eyes, holding out his hands to stop him.
“Get out of my way,” Richard barked, emotions warring in his head. He was irritated at Nathan’s behavior and, at the same time, overjoyed to see him in one piece.
“Put the weapon away,” Nathan said. He looked good, his skin darkened by the sun, his broad shoulders stretching his shirt. Muscles bulged underneath his clothes. He didn’t appear to be any less healthy than when Richard had last seen him. Captivity hadn’t emaciated him like Lilian.
He stepped forward, pushing Richard’s sword arm to the side and held onto him. “This is Ogharod. He’s a friend.”
A friend? The orc was a friend? The wave of relief at seeing Nathan alive and well was overshadowed by the presence of the menacing beast behind him and Richard’s worry for Lilian, who’d run in a panic when he spotted the orc and was now alone in the forest. Richard had to find him.
“Detain the orc,” Richard told his knights.
“Ogharod is no danger,” Nathan said emphatically.
Richard’s lips twisted. “If he’s a friend as you say, he’ll let my knights confine him.” He threw Ogharod a warning glance, then pulled Nathan into a one-armed hug, holding onto his sword. “Welcome home. I need to go find Lilian.”
“Who?”
Richard didn’t answer. He had no time to lose. Releasing Nathan, he spun on his heel and descended into the forest. He had half a mind to order all of Somerdale Castle to help him look for Lilian, but after seeing the orc, he was likely in a state of panic, and anyone but Richard would scare him away.
“Lilian!” Richard ran between the trees. Jumping over roots and fallen branches, he weaved through the forest that snaked around the side of the hill. He called for Lilian, praying to hear a response, but the woods remained silent.
Richard searched behind every tree and rock, calling Lilian’s name—Lilian would flee if he heard someone other than him blustering through the forest. Richard looked for fresh footprints but found nothing in the dry soil. It hadn’t rained in days.
With each passing minute, his heart beat harder. What if Lilian had stumbled and hit his head? He might be lying on the forest floor, unconscious. He might’ve curled up in a ball somewhere, rocking back and forth because the orc had triggered his worst memories. Richard shouldn’t have wasted time charging Ogharod and talking to Nathan; he should’ve gone after Lilian straight away.
After an hour of fruitless searching and shouting, Richard was hoarse. By noon, the ceaseless march through the forest was gnawing at his strength. He didn’t have time to eat, nor did he want to—yes, he could’ve used the energy, but his throat closed up at the thought of food. Lilian had nothing with him and would soon be haunted by hunger pangs. Richard had to find him and take him home.
In the afternoon, Richard ran back to the castle and grabbed a horse from the stable master. No, Lilian hadn’t returned in his absence, she told him, and yes, the knights had detained the orc. Richard jumped onto his white mare and cantered through the gate, descending the slope. He’d left no stone unturned in the forest. Lilian had to have run past the trees. On horseback, Richard could draw wider circles than on foot, giving him a better chance at finding Lilian, who could’ve disappeared in any direction.
Richard rode into Somerdale and asked about Lilian, but nobody had seen him. He scanned the fields and searched along the river. By the end of the afternoon, his mare was tired from the frantic ride. At an inn, he swapped the animal for a fresh steed, promising to exchange them again before the end of the day.
With a new horse under him, Richard resumed his search, combing the surrounding area. He couldn’t find Lilian. He’d vanished without a trace.
Night descended. There was no point looking for Lilian in the dark. It was a moonless night, meaning Richard might miss or even trample an unconscious Lilian. The horse could trip and break its legs, and Richard was tired enough to fall out of the saddle. The best thing to do was return to the castle, eat and sleep—though he wasn’t sure whether he’d be able to do either of those things—and resume his search in the morning.
Beside himself with worry, Richard returned his borrowed horse and rode home on his mare. Questions crowded his mind. Why had Lilian been outside alone? Had Richard’s meeting with Bellerose upset him so much? Richard couldn’t blame him.
What if there were more orcs in the area? Nathan claimed Ogharod wasn’t a threat, but orcs traveled in hordes, and there could be more. What if they’d taken Lilian? Richard couldn’t bear the notion of them violating him. The thought made him sick to his stomach.