Choosing Hearts - The Fighter's Passion (Gritty, Explicit Romance Novel) (A Lusty Stand Alone Story) Read online

  CHOOSING

  HEARTS

  Diana Quippley

  This tale of passion has been locked and sealed in a fancy, copyrighted © treasure trove belonging to the lusty Diana Quippley in the year 2015. It is highly advisable that you do not attempt to pilfer or purloin any parts of this enthralling story...

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  And alas... you are to be told that this is indeed a work of fiction. Any resemblance or similarity to real-life individuals, places, or things is purely coincidental.

  A Quick Word

  CHOOSING HEARTS is a lusty stand-alone romance novel with some scenes of passion, violence, and mature content. Inside you will learn there is happiness in life, but as always, it comes with a heavy price…

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  What You Will Find

  CHOOSING HEARTS

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  CHOOSING HEARTS

  CHAPTER ONE

  “I like the first showers of spring.” Belen grinned boyishly. “It stirs my heart with love.”

  Rogan smiled at the nineteen year old on his first year of service. The youngster’s exuberance reminded him of his own early youth as he turned his handsome face up to the refreshing spray showering down on all of them. “Aye, young Belen, spring is the time for love and rejuvenation.”

  The warm sunshine flooding the land as the sun crested the northern snow capped mountains brought the surrounding fauna and flora to life. Flowers, nourished by the early morning rain, exploded in a vivid palette of color even as birds equally vibrant took to the air or burst into song. The advent of spring came with the promise of even more prosperity for a flourishing land in its fourth year of peace after many years of strife and despair.

  “After a long hard winter, a good spring rain is always welcome.” Gregory nodded, smoothing down his thick drooping moustache as the rain trickled down his leathery face.

  “Welcome it is, old friend” Rogan replied as patted the neck of the great black charger he was mounted on. “The last three years I have served in the Duke’s army here at Kirk Falls have been the best days of my life.”

  “As it has been for the dukedom,” the veteran man-at-arms, Gregory, agreed. “Three years of peace after the troubles from the south-west were dealt with.”

  Rogan smiled wryly, reminiscing about the time he had first come to the lovely town of Kirk Falls. He was a wandering mercenary then, with only the clothes on his back and his skills as a fighter to offer. The people of the fair countryside had welcomed him and he soon found work as a militiaman in the local patrol. The land of Kirk Falls was under constant incursions from the over-ambitious dukedom to the south-west. Rogan’s fighting skills and tactical ability won him a place in Duke Edenton’s army. Within a few weeks Rogan’s heroic feats had inspired the Duke’s men to victory and he was proclaimed the champion of Kirk Falls. And ever since then, he presided over the army, ushering in a time of peace and prosperity for all.

  “Speaking of the south-west,” Rogan raised an eyebrow, gently nudging his warhorse into a forward trot. “I hear the Duke’s niece is due to arrive from Wells Park in a day.”

  “Aye, Rogan.” Belen smiled happily, “that she is. And what a rare beauty she is too.”

  “Would you be smitten by her?” Gregory laughed.

  “Wouldn’t we all.” The teenager replied, misty eyed. “Her flowing golden hair, creamy soft skin and sweet rosy lips - such lovely eyes as blue as a summer sky… and that body… I shudder at the thought of her luscious curves.”

  “The Duke would have you drawn and quartered if he heard you now.” Rogan threw back his head and laughed.

  “It would be worth it, for one night of passion with her.” Belen went on. “Lady Gwendolyn is indeed a goddess among mortal women.”

  “Well then, it’s best we old goats leave her to young fools like you to fawn over.” Gregory kicked his great grey horse into a gallop. “Hurry now, let us ride back to the town square. I can smell breakfast being made already.”

  The three horsemen guided their mounts back down the rocky trail they had come up to the cliffs that overlooked the dukedom to marvel at the sunrise. Rogan enjoyed the company of the veteran and the greenhorn. It had become almost a ritual for them to take the morning patrol for almost a year now. At twenty seven, Rogan fit perfectly between the nineteen year old rookie and the thirty nine year old veteran to form a buffer between their generation gap and all the arguments that ensued between the two. He treated all his men alike, and as his equals, even though he was the captain now for the last two years.

  The early morning sun on his back felt good as Rogan rode into the town centre. He was a tall man, almost seven feet, and very handsome. He enjoyed the looks he got from all the women of Kirk Falls, young and not so young. His shoulder length hair was golden, with flame red highlights and his eyes were as green as emeralds set on a striking chiseled face, clean shaven and square jawed. He was a warrior born with a powerful physique, heavily muscled and with agility and speed that gave him a purposeful gait making others look up at him in awe and fear. A master in many forms of martial arts, weapons and tactical skill, Rogan was the Duke’s champion and all of Kirk Falls’ protector. “Will you look at that,” Belen made a face as he drew rein beside the huge warrior. “It is as if we are not even here.”

  “You should be used to that by now, boy.” Gregory grunted as he dismounted. “You don’t have a chance when you keep company with Rogan.”

  “Not even one of the fair lasses can tear their eyes off him.” Belen joined Gregory as he tethered his horse outside the eating house. “I mean, what are we to do when none of the women of Kirk Falls know we even exist?”

  “I’m too old to care.” Gregory dusted his clothes before stepping into the establishment. “And so is my hungry belly.”

  “Don’t worry, young Belen.” Rogan cuffed the freckle-faced youngster behind the ear. “I have as much need of these pretty young lasses as Gregory here.”

  “Ah, yes.” Belen scratched his head. “You’ve got the belle of the town betrothed to you.”

  “Well, not betrothed yet.” Rogan sat down beside Gregory and poured himself some ale.

  “And when are you going to ask Farmer Grimond for his daughter’s hand?” Gregory eyed the taller man as he sipped his ale.

  “As soon as the Duke gets back and awards me the land I have been promised.” Rogan replied, smiling at the lovely serving girl carrying their usual breakfast of eggs, ham, bread and fruit.

  “Well, the Duke’s due back in three days.” Belen grinned, biting into an apple. “Enough time for showing Lady Gwendolyn a good time here in Kirk Falls.”

  “Fat chance of that happening. Why would a woman of high noble birth want to be with a mere man-at-arms in training like you?” Gregory sneered at Belen.

  “Love knows not status of birth or station.” Rogan said sagely, taking a bite of bread and ham.

&nb
sp; “Or even age.” Belen added, showing Gregory his middle finger. “Even an old toad like you can find someone young and lovely.”

  “This old toad…” Gregory began, baring his teeth.

  Then, suddenly, the town bell rang and all three men stood up. The townspeople had begun gathering outside around the high bell tower by the time they hurried out of the eating house. A young rider stood by the bell, gasping and wiping his sweat streaked face as he held on to the reins of his well lathered mount.

  “Clovis?” Rogan called, as he ran out of the tavern. “What news from the south-west, boy?”

  “Oh… Rogan.” The young man panted, rather relieved to see the large captain of the guard. “It is good that you are here… and you too, Gregory.”

  “Speak, boy.” The grey haired veteran grated. “What news?”

  “Bandits have laid siege upon the southern border tower.” Clovis said with a deep sigh. “Lady Gwendolyn’s carriage was ambushed. She is being held hostage in the tower.”

  “What?” Belen shrieked. “Raise the army. Call every man able. We must rescue her.”

  “Silence, fool.” Gregory barked. “How many bandits, Clovis?”

  “At least two dozen, thirty at most.” The young rider replied. “We didn’t have a chance; they slew all the men guarding the carriage and took the tower. I alone managed to flee to get help… Captain Borden ordered me to leave them… otherwise I would have fought…”

  “We do not blame you, Clovis. You did the right thing and Borden’s sacrifice will be remembered.” Rogan assured the trembling young man.

  “Let us leave now. A hundred armed men will do.” Belen was almost screaming. “We must save her…”

  “They will see us coming from miles away and can hold siege in that tower for days or even weeks.” Rogan said grimly. “We need a more subtle and covert approach.”

  “Half a dozen skilled men, quiet and deadly, with their wits about them will suffice.” Gregory nodded. “That leaves you out of this mission, young Belen.”

  “What? But… but I…” The youngster babbled.

  “Gregory is right, Belen.” Rogan nodded. “Your infatuation with her ladyship will prove a hindrance to our plans.”

  “But I can… I am the best bowman…” The young man protested.

  “You legendary skills with the bow will give them advance warning of our approach; this has to be quick, quiet and precise.” Rogan rubbed his clean shaven chin, his brow knitted in formulating a plan of action.

  “What can be quieter than my deadly arrows from afar?” Belen protested hotly.

  “Heed me and remain here.” The tall fiery-blond warrior gritted his teeth. “Lest I have you clapped in irons.”

  Belen grudgingly sat down and sulked as Gregory listed the four other better experienced men who would join him and Rogan on their stealth mission.

  “Gorman, Niles, Draco and Harald are the best we have.” The veteran looked at the assembled men around the bell tower. “We can be armed and ready to ride within the hour.”

  “Good, let’s be on our way then.” Rogan nodded. “We will ride hard and fast, take two spare horses to a man. It is a six hour ride. We must make it in four.”

  ~ ~ ~

  About half an hour to the southern border, with the watchtower in sight and the sun high in the noonday sky, Rogan motioned to the five riders following him to dismount and lead their horses on foot. Tethering twelve of the horses to a large tree, the six powerfully built men led one horse each by their reins and silently tread through the trees toward the tower that loomed ahead.

  “We split up into teams of two and move in from three sides.” Rogan whispered to the others. “Harald, you come with me.”

  “Aye, Captain.” The bald giant nodded, his dark eyes narrowed and a sullen scowl on his large bearded face.

  “I see six men on each wall; they don’t really look very alert to me.” Draco said softly, his sharp eyes scanning the walls of the tower with the expert precision of a seasoned scout.

  “All the better for us, lads.” Gregory nodded with a grim smile. “The noon day sun has got them all drowsy. Let’s go.”

  The three groups of two slipped off through the trees, leaving their horses in the shrubbery for a quick getaway. Rogan, with Harald on his heels, rapidly moved to the western gate. No one was around. The two seasoned warriors scaled the wall with ease, landing in the middle of six half drunken bandits on guard duty playing dice.

  “Intruders…” One of the bandits managed to yell before he was forever silenced by Harald’s massive double bladed axe.

  The other five didn’t know what hit them; all they saw was a blur of deadly steel before darkness overcame them.

  “That’s the lot then.” Rogan heaved a sigh, wiping the two bloodied broad swords he held on the bodies of the three he had killed while Harald emptied the gold from the purses of the other three.

  “There will be more inside the tower.” The huge axe-man rumbled as he pocketed the gold coins.

  “Yes, and I see Gregory and Draco coming over from the eastern wall as well.” Rogan replied softly, signaling at the other two as they crept up.

  They ran up the wide stairway that wound around the tower from inside as Gorman and Niles joined the other four with grins on their blood spattered faces.

  “Eighteen to nothing.” Gregory grinned. “Not a bad start at all.”

  “If Clovis was right, we may just have another eight to ten more to deal with.” Draco whispered, craning his neck to pick up sounds from within.

  “Bandits like these couldn’t steal candy from children.” Niles snorted. “They went down like training dummies.”

  “Desperate men, times are hard.” Gorman shook his head. “Bumpkins with rusted weapons stood no chance against seasoned, well-trained warriors.”

  “They were just grunts and guardsmen; we might find us a fight with the core group inside.” Rogan cautioned his men. “Don’t let the easy victory make you lower your guard.”

  “Never have; never will.” Gregory whispered with pride and the others nodded their support.

  They stood before a large wooden door. Sounds of merriment drifted out from inside. The bandits surely did not expect such a swift response to their vandalism. Men were laughing and obviously drunk. Bad music and ribald cheers spoke of what kind of entertainment was being enjoyed behind the door. Rogan hoped that the lady Gwendolyn was not the star performer. Offering a silent prayer, he motioned at Harald to break open the door and to the rest to follow the huge axe-man in.

  Harald splintered the heavy oak door with one massive blow of his battle-axe, before charging his gigantic bulk through it, followed closely by Rogan and the rest. More than twenty men in various states of intoxication and jollity froze in bewilderment. The prospect of a large ransom for their elite captive had them giving into drunkenness and merriment even before their pockets were lined. The music played on even as the pair of naked women on table tops kept swaying their curvy hips to the coarse rhythm.

  “Where is the Lady Gwendolyn, heir to the Duke of Kirk Falls?” Rogan’s voice boomed like thunder. “Speak now, or forever be silenced.”

  “Who are you to make such a demand?” Another loud voice echoed down from above.

  Rogan looked up at the large man dressed in better clothes and armor than the rest of the bandits staring down from the balcony of an upper room.

  “I am Rogan, protector of the dukedom.” He shouted back. “Answer me now, vandal, or suffer the fate of the men on your walls.”

  “You are a fool, Rogan.” The other man sneered. “Think you that with a mere handful of men you can bargain with me, Edgthor the Great?”

  “I ask you again, bandit.” Rogan said very slowly. “Where is the Lady Gwendolyn?”

  “You think you have me at a disadvantage, fool.” The bandit chief guffawed. “My men outnumber you four to one.”

  “Have at them.” Rogan yelled, his twin broadswords weaving arcs of lightning an
d spilling bandit blood. His men-at-arms moved with as much expert ease, their weapons of choice singing their own songs of death.

  Within moments, seventeen bandits lay dead in pools of blood and four more cowered on the ground, their hands raised in surrender. The music had finally stopped playing, the musician having fled through an open window. The two naked dancers shivered in fright under the very tables that they were performing on moments ago.

  Rogan raced up the stairway leading to the bandit leader’s position. The man had taken the opportunity to flee while the fight went on. As the tall captain of the Duke’s men ran up four steps at a time, he could hear a woman’s voice screaming. With a few more bounds, Rogan reached the very top of the tower. In the narrow space of the eagle’s nest, where lookouts were normally posted, Rogan rushed out to find a lovely golden haired young woman struggling against the bearded bandit leader.