The Crimson Castle

by Samantha Holt

  Gabriel grimaced. “We were set upon by outlaws, my lord. They’ve injured two of the men and killed one. The physician has been summoned and is seeing to them…” Gabriel hesitated, “It was Lazarus’ gang.”

  Tibald’s face filled with rage at hearing the name and Evelyn wondered who this individual was that he could cause so much anger.

  “God’s wounds, Gabe, how did they get the better of you?” He slammed his fist down on the arm of his chair making Evelyn jump.

  “Forgive me, my lord. We were ambushed and they were many to our few.” He winced again, gripping tightly at his side.

  He glared at his master with thinly veiled contempt and Evelyn wondered if Lord Tibald deliberately ignored his pointed looks or whether he was genuinely oblivious. How a man with Gabriel’s temper had lasted so long in Tibald’s service she could not understand. She could see his tempered fury brewing within him almost every time he addressed Lord Tibald and she knew it couldn’t be long until something within him snapped.

  “‘Tis the second time this month that they have wreaked havoc! What use are you if you cannot even control a rabble of beggars?”

  After studying Gabriel, she quickly concluded he was badly injured but attempting to conceal it, mayhap for his lord’s sake. Having no wish to see anyone suffering, even Sir Gabriel, she knew she had to take action and her charitable nature forced her to speak up.

  Eyeing Tibald, Evelyn spoke tentatively, “Sir Gabriel, are you injured?”

  Tibald spluttered, “Injured? You are truly useless, Gabe. “

  Gabriel flinched at his words and turned to Evelyn. “‘Tis a scratch, my lady, naught more.”

  He whitened as he spoke, stumbling slightly.

  Fearing Tibald was going to make him stand there until he dropped; Evelyn moved towards him and lifted his hand away to see blood seeping through a large gash in his attire. The wound looked grievous and could well be fatal if left untreated.

  She turned to Tibald. “Will you let me tend to him, my lord?”

  “Aye, aye.” He waved his hand dismissively. “Bring him back in one piece so I can punish him properly,” he spat as Evelyn led Gabriel away, eyeing the pair through a narrowed gaze.

  Gabriel apologised as Evelyn clumsily steered him to his chambers, his weight becoming heavier as they left the hall. She found his chambers to be sparser than her own which surprised her. Although she suspected Gabriel paid little attention to material trappings, she would have expected Tibald's right hand man to have been housed in something finer than this. Apparently she wasn’t the only one subjected to inferior accommodation. It brought to mind again the question as to why Gabriel served such a man.

  After helping him to lie down, she went to see if the physician had arrived yet. She found him dealing with the other two men and he promised her he would look at Gabriel as soon as he could, but for the moment he had his hands full. Fearing Gabriel did not have time to wait from the amount of blood she had seen, she resolved to handle it herself.

  When she arrived back at his chamber she was relieved to see him in no worse state than when she had left him. Evelyn attempted to remove Gabriel’s shirt over his head but he couldn’t lift his arm high enough without straining the laceration so she resorted to ripping it off. After several strong tugs at the slash in it, the material tore and she wrenched it away. He had a large gash reaching from his back, around his ribs to just under his armpit, presumably caused by the glancing blow of a sword.

  She blanched at the sight of the lesion but rallied her nerves. She was not entirely without experience in dealing with ills and, with a brother like hers, had dealt with several of his wounds, although none as severe as this.

  “This is going to need stitching,” she announced. “I’ll fetch some thread.”

  Gabriel simply nodded his head and waited for her return. Somehow the pain in his side was nothing compared to the burning that spread through him following her delicate touch.

  Returning quickly, she set down the alcohol tucked and readied a thread and needle. She tried to hide any apprehension she felt with a mask of cool composure, an expression she had spent much time perfecting recently.

  “Lie down,” she commanded gently.

  Gabriel surprised himself by obeying without question.

  “This may hurt,” she warned, picking up the liquor.

  “I can take it,” he snapped.

  Evelyn hid a smile at his defiant tone and wincing, poured the alcohol over the wound, hearing his breath hiss between his teeth as the liquid splashed at the raw redness. Taking a calming breath, Evelyn made the first stitch. He didn’t make a sound as she wove across his wound but his breath came rapidly and he closed his eyes as he locked his jaw to deal with the pain.

  With shaking hands, she placed down her tools after making the last stitch, not having realised quite how tense she was and relief swept over her. Gabriel’s torso and face glistened with perspiration but his breathing had slowed and she was grateful to no longer be the cause of any pain.

  Exhausted eyes held her gaze and he uttered a gruff “Thank you.” before passing out.

  ***

  Evelyn eased the door to his chambers open slowly, grimacing as it creaked under its weight. Gabriel was still sleeping peacefully. She observed his relaxed face and was struck by how childlike he appeared. To observe him now, his dangerous glinting eyes hidden away, his strong jaw relaxed, you would be hard pressed to believe this man was a threat to anyone. Under his hard gaze, Evelyn often felt a prickling sensation and she wondered why he compelled her to anxiety when surely it was his master that was the real danger.

  She moved towards him slowly, her breath catching at the sight of him. His smooth, muscular chest highlighted by the flickering candlelight of the room took her aback momentarily. She had been too busy tending to him previously to pay any attention to his body but, as he lay out in front of her, it momentarily stunned her. His skin glowed in the light, the dips and curves moving slowly with his every breath.

  Feeling foolish as he stirred under her gaze, she steeled herself, progressing forwards to put a tender hand on his side. As she examined his wound, Gabriel’s eyes sprang open at the feel of her hands and he tried to sit up.

  “Lie back; you’ll strain your wound.” She pushed him back gently.

  “I am well enough,” he said gruffly, lying back anyway, too tired to fight against her.

  “Indeed, you are not,” Evelyn said sternly.

  Gabriel started to protest but she interrupted, “The physician checked on you while you were sleeping and has given me some salve to prevent it festering but you need to be kept an eye on to ensure you don’t succumb to fever.”

  She began to peel back his dressings and Gabriel scowled, not enjoying the feeling of vulnerability but too exhausted and in too much pain to protest. He grit his teeth and tried to hide his reaction to her soft touch as she spread the salve on his wound and applied fresh dressings. Sweat beaded on his forehead in an effort to retain some self-control and Evelyn looked at him with concern.

  She put a cool hand to his head and chewed at her lip. “You may be starting a fever. I will bring you a sleeping draught so you can rest without pain.”

  “I care not about the pain; I have no want of some vile concoction. Just leave me to rest, I have survived worse.”

  Evelyn resigned herself to the fact that he would accept no further help and installed herself in a chair, not far from his bedside. She knew he had been through worse - the scars criss-crossing his back told her more than any words could have. They looked old, as if he may have received them as a child. She wondered what he could have done as a boy to deserve such a beating but she knew for many masters it didn’t take much to incite them to inflict pain on their subordinates.

  There was a few minutes silence before Gabriel rolled painfully onto his side and scowled at her. “Pray tell me you are not staying there all night?”

  Evelyn crossed her arms across her chest. �
�For certain I am. You may be starting a fever and you have need of someone to watch over you.”

  Gabriel narrowed his eyes at her defensive posture. “‘Tis the physician’s job, is it not?”

  “The physician is busy with the other men who are in a far worse state than you. You have no choice unless you think you are of more consequence than them…?” She raised an eyebrow at him, goading him.

  “How am I meant to take rest with you watching my every move?” He could feel her eyes upon him and it unnerved him.

  “Close your eyes, 'twould help.”

  Stubborn man. She should have known he wouldn’t accept any aid from her. Well, she was staying whether he liked it or not. No-one could say Evelyn ever neglected her duty, even if it was to one of the most hated men in the county. She picked up her embroidery that she had brought with her to keep her occupied and deliberately turned to one side.

  She was relieved when he sighed and rolled back over, closing his eyes. Evelyn watched the rise and fall of his chest and acknowledged his body subsiding into slumber. She tried to keep her glances towards him to a minimum but kept finding her thoughts drifting back to his chest only half covered by the sheets. She was tempted to cover him up further but felt as if this would be admitting his effect on her.

  Tending to him had softened her resolve towards Gabriel. Somehow seeing him so vulnerable had altered her perception of him to an extent. She frowned, angry with herself for such foolish thoughts particularly about a man such as this. Gabriel had openly revealed his blackened soul to her, the fear in people’s eyes spoke volumes and she had already witnessed his brutality. Here was a man who showed little compassion and anyone in Tibald’s employ had to be someone with no morality.

  No, she decided, this was not a man who was deserving of any of her thoughts, especially thoughts akin to those.

  ***

  Gabriel awoke, not remembering having fallen asleep. Exhaustion finally overcame him after what felt like an eternity. Each sound felt magnified, the rustle of her skirts, the intake of her breath - just being in her presence seemed to heighten his every sense.

  The room was dark, the few candles having burned out long ago, but the night was bright, the moonlight permeating the shutters, and he could still make out Evelyn in the corner. She had fallen asleep, her head tilted to one side, her lips slightly ajar and Gabriel almost smiled at the innocent picture she made. And she was just that. For all her bold declarations, she was still naïve to the ways of the world. Still clinging to hope that her life would continue in the same blessed manner that it always had.

  He watched her, as she had watched him, and he reflected on that night’s events. He had been surprised at her offering him aid. As far as she was concerned, he was the devil incarnate to her. Her dogged insistence that he do as he was told came as no surprise to him, however. She was surely the most stubborn woman he had ever come across and twice as argumentative. Evelyn aggravated him beyond reason and he failed to understand why.

  Her eyes fluttered open as he watched her and he saw the confusion in her eyes as she awoke from her slumber. She looked to him and, even through the dark of the night, Gabriel could see that she was discomfited with having being so exposed to his scrutiny. With a stretch, she rose from her chair and, stepping towards him, she gave him a tentative smile.

  “How are you feeling?”

  Intending to make a mocking remark, he stopped himself, but not before she caught the sardonic expression on his face and she stepped back slightly. He cursed his foolish pride; he was genuinely grateful for her care and wished he had better social graces. Grabbing her hand, he stopped her from retreating and she stared at their hands in surprise. Realising what he had done, he dropped it.

  “I thank you, my lady,” he said hoarsely, as she rubbed unknowingly at the hand he had just touched. “I’m feeling much improved.”

  “I am glad of it.”

  His awkward touch forgotten, she moved forward once more and put a hand to his head for the second time that night. Her caress had a torturous element to it and part of him wanted to tear away from it whilst another wanted to seize it and place passionate kisses to her palm. These thoughts seem to have crept up on him and a realisation of just how strong his attraction was to her struck him. He groaned and Evelyn looked at him with concern, imagining it to be from pain.

  “Can I get you a draught for the discomfort?”

  He shook his head. “Nay, just a drink if you will.”

  “Of course.”

  She handed him some ale and Gabriel couldn’t help but deliberately brush his fingers tips across hers as he took it from her, further torturing himself. He watched carefully for her reaction and he was sure he saw a darkening of her cheeks in the hazy darkness, but he decided he was probably deceiving himself.

  She studied him as he sat up and drained the cup. “Why were you attacked?”

  He supressed the urge to groan at her curiosity and his jaw jerked in anger at the memories of the confrontation. “‘Tis of no consequence, my lady.”

  “Two men nearly killed and an injury such as yours is of no consequence?”

  “’Twas a group of outlaws just looking to cause mischief.”

  “You would call that mischief?” She pointed to his wound.

  “They want vengeance,” he muttered.

  “Vengeance for what?”

  “Lady Evelyn, you must understand Lord Tibald has to punish wrong doings-“

  “Tell me, what did they want vengeance for?” she interrupted sharply, eyeing him with exasperation.

  He gave a sigh, knowing she would not leave the subject alone, having already discovered her stubborn nature.

  “The leader, Lazarus, had a child who worked in the castle. They had him feed them information, in particular about the lord’s movements. They robbed Tibald twice on the road thanks to the boy’s information.”

  “And the boy was found out?”

  Gabriel nodded sadly, dreading how she would react when he told her of the boy’s fate.

  “What of the child?”

  “Evelyn, I don’t think-“

  “What happened?” she persisted.

  “He was hung.” Gabriel looked away, knowing the disappointment and horror in her eyes would be directed at him.

  “Could you not have done something?”

  Shaking his head, he gave an inward groan. How like her to believe that one person could put the world to rights. Did she forget he was just a man? Or did she believe he performed his duties with such relish that he would take pleasure in seeing a child hung?

  “How can you have allowed that to happen?”

  “Allowed? Evelyn, can you not see I have little say in these matters? Some of us do not have the benefit of highborn birth; we cannot command others to do as we say.”

  She fell silent for a moment, avoiding his gaze while biting at her lip.

  “Nay, you are right. Forgive my foolishness.”

  He softened at this, the apology unexpected. “I know you think of me as the devil incarnate, Evelyn, but even I have no taste for killing children,” he spoke gently but he was still chagrined by her accusations.

  She did not deny his allegation, shifting uncomfortably under his intense gaze. There was a gulf of silence between them until she turned abruptly, her cheeks heated by shame.

  “I will bid you good night, Sir. You have need of rest.”

  Gabriel tried to hide his disappointment, a frown coming across his face at his puerile thoughts, and Evelyn, upon seeing this, made quickly to the door.

  “I will return in the morrow,” she paused, “to check on the wound.” She added this hastily as if to make sure he understood she was merely performing a duty and had no interest in spending time in his company.

  As an understanding of the folly of his feelings for her descended upon him, he laid down, not bothering to respond, and flung an arm across his eyes. She hastened out of the room in a bustle of skirts and he heard the door s
hut, none to softly, behind her. He had upset her, he was sure, but he had found himself unable to look at her, the attraction seeming to intensify with her every move, her every touch. Her feelings of abhorrence for him were abundantly clear and he wondered how it was possible to cause her offence if she thought so little of him.

  Sleep proved elusive for a second time that night, the thought of her return robbing him of his rest and it was with a weary head and an irritable disposition that he greeted her the next day.

  Chapter 4

  Gabriel was quick to recover, for which Evelyn was grateful. He needed little attending now but Tibald was difficult to deal with, his frustrations at Gabriel being unable to fulfil all his duties being released upon Evelyn and his servants.

  The impending visit from some nobles signalled the start of preparations for a great feast. Evelyn struggled to summon up any enthusiasm for it. Evelyn loathed large social gatherings such as these, seemingly only used as an opportunity for the men to get unreasonably inebriated and to boast of their conquests. She knew few of the noble ladies attending, having done her best to avoid previous gatherings, although some of them were coming from neighbouring lands. The admiration she received as well as her outspoken nature, tended not to endear her towards females of her standing.

  As the castle slowly came to life in anticipation of the event, Gabriel was increasingly busy in spite of some stern words from Evelyn reminding him not to strain himself after such an injury. His response was one of cool indifference and Evelyn found herself avoiding his company once more, bewildered by the rapid change in his attitude towards her. She felt that just as soon as she had broken through his stony exterior, he would throw up another wall and her incessant inquisitiveness began to wane.

  But then just as she felt she could give up devoting her thoughts to him, he would surprise her. A smile, a laugh, a kind gesture, and she would be enthralled again until his cold expression shuttered down once more and she would attempt to convince herself that he was not worth her thoughts.

  The day of the feast came as more visiting peers joined them, the stifling atmosphere of the castle seeming to intensify, not through the increase of bodies filling it but through the scrutiny she could feel directed at herself. The amused glances of Tibald and his companions put her on edge and, as she stood in the courtyard, vying for respite, a hand came upon her shoulder and she turned to see Gabriel.