Beyond Time: A Dark Order of the Dragon Novel (The Dark Order of the Dragon Book 2)

by Sandra Bischoff

  “Do you know the easiest way to tame a beast, Christian?”

  Lance franticly tried to move. His eyes locked on the tool in Rimmon’s hand.

  “Rip out its means of protection, de-fang, de-claw and to truly break their spirit, geld them.”

  Twenty Eight

  The doors of the King’s private chambers flew open. Lancelot spun, sword drawn to confront who ever dared disturb them. Arthur, still seated behind the massive oak table, looked up from the scroll in front of him, clearly expecting the intruder to be Lord Rimmon. The demon had been scarce over the last few days, all but withdrawing from the tournament. It seemed once Lancelot’s son Christian vanished, no one in the kingdom had any desire to continue competing, Rimmon included.

  But it wasn’t Rimmon who invaded the King’s sanctuary. It was the Guinevere, Elaine, and Elizabeth. Merlin’s apprentice and Galahad followed behind them, quietly shutting the heavy wooden doors in their wake. Lancelot lowered his blade with a sigh.

  Arthur rose and stepped out from behind the table to join his first in command. “Gwen? What is the meaning of this? I was finalizing the preparations for Lady Elizabeth’s wedding ceremony.”

  “Aye? You mean the one that will be blasphemous in the eyes of God?” The Queen lifted her chin.

  “Guinevere, we have been through this time and again. Their marriage benefits this kingdom. The contracts have been signed. The ink has been dry for ages. There is nothing I can do-”

  Elaine stepped forward interrupting the King. “But to wed an already married woman to another? I think the church may frown upon that especially when her husband still lives.”

  “Already wed?” Arthur approached the threesome, his anger radiated like the warmth from the sun. The women stood their ground. He was almost upon them when Zephyr raised his hand blasting the king back a few steps. Arthur narrowed his eyes at the cloaked man. “Try that again and I will make sure you are thrown out at first light.”

  “I beg your pardon, Majesty.” Zephyr bowed low. “I believe you should hear them out. We only meant to protect Lady Elizabeth from the demon.”

  Elizabeth placed a gentle hand on Zephyr’s arm. When he met her gaze, she nodded her thanks. The vampire retreated to take up sentry near the door, still keeping watch on the situation.

  Taking a deep breath and squaring her shoulders, Elizabeth stepped forward. She dipped down into a deep curtsey and waited for the King to allow her to rise. When he frowned, she took it as the sign she needed. Rising, she plastered her sweetest smile on her lips and looked back and forth between her uncle and father-in-law.

  “What is the meaning of all this, Lady Elizabeth?” Arthur demanded.

  “Your Majesty, a fortnight ago I wed Christian Lancelot Du Lac. A ceremony was held in secret at the lake on the edge of Camelot. Zephyr performed it and Galahad bore witness.”

  Her gaze never faltered even as she watched his face grow red. From the corner of her eye she saw Galahad move forward, ready to pull her out of range of the King’s wrath. Elizabeth held up her hand to stop him. Galahad froze.

  “You did all of this behind my back, knowing the consequences of your actions? Who else in this room knew of this? Gwen? Lady Elaine?” The King turned and narrowed his eyes at the man beside him. “Lance?”

  Lancelot’s jaw fell. “Sire, I had no idea.”

  “The only ones who knew at first were Zephyr, Galahad, and someone we thought was Lady Semiramis,” Elizabeth interjected.

  “What do you mean you thought it was Semiramis?” The King’s temper flared.

  “We have been unable to locate her. According to Elaine and Christian, she faltered when either of them asked her things only the real Lady would know. We believe she was an imposter put in place as a spy for Lord Rimmon.”

  “’Tis quite a big assumption. One we cannot verify given your husband’s disappearance and hers.”

  “Aye, true. But given I am already wed, my wedding contract with Lord Rimmon is void. That is unless you declare my marriage to Christian invalid here before his family and mine. Denying our union will also ruin me since we consummated our marriage.” Elizabeth’s green eyes flashed. “Which will it be, Uncle? Ruin the lives of your closest family and friends or gain whatever riches and power an untrustworthy demon promised you.”

  Arthur turned away from them and braced his hands on the table. His eyes transfixed on the contracts scattered across the surface. “How could I bring shame to the people I value above all else? To declare your marriage invalid could destroy not only my family, but Lancelot’s as well. Nay, your marriage to Christian stands.”

  Elizabeth let out the breath she had been holding. Elaine and Guinevere embraced her with words of congratulations. Lancelot slapped his friend and King on the shoulder. Galahad and Zephyr nodded to each other, smiling. They had escaped unscathed.

  In all of the celebration, Arthur still hadn’t moved. His head still hung loose on his neck. His shoulders slumped, back to them.

  Elizabeth stepped forward and placed her hand over one of his. “Uncle?”

  “I am truly sorry, Elizabeth.” He whispered.

  Confused, Elizabeth urged him to face her. “Sorry? For what?”

  His sad blue gaze met hers. “Christian is gone, my dear. He is not about to return. I must treat this as if he died and left you his widow.”

  “What does that mean?” Lancelot and Elaine flanked her on either side.

  “You will be wed to Lord Rimmon as planned at the end of the month.”

  “Nay.” Elizabeth’s legs buckled under her.

  Lancelot caught her before she hit the ground. Sweeping her up into his arms, he glared at Arthur. “You will not go through with this. I will not allow you to tell the kingdom my son is dead when we all know he is not.”

  Galahad rushed forward. “You cannot do this, Your Majesty. Christian is still in Camelot. He never left.” All eyes turned on him as he wavered under their scrutiny.

  Guinevere touched his arm. “Then where is he?”

  Meeting her kind gaze, Galahad shook his head. “Sadly we have no idea, but I can assure you ‘tis not because we are not looking.”

  “We? You never asked for my help.” Lancelot frowned at his son. “Who is helping you?”

  “I was introduced to a village of people like mother. They have the ability drift through the surrounding area undetected, as wolves and other animals. If Christian is out there, they will definitely find him.”

  Relief flitted across Elaine’s face. “Who? Who did you contact?”

  Galahad shook his head. “I am sorry Maman, I have sworn on my honor not to expose them. Just know they are as concerned as we are about Christian’s well-being.”

  Elizabeth patted her father-in-law’s chest, urging him to put her down. Once on her feet, she crossed the room to meet Galahad. “How? How do you know he is here and I do not?”

  He drew the sword from his belt and held it up for all of them to see. “Because who ever took him left behind a clue only I would notice. This blade was made by someone more skilled than anyone we have here. It is flawless, light, and stronger than any steel we possess. This sword is the only item Christian brought with him from the future, but his captor would not know that. Only father and I knew.”

  Lancelot took the sword from Galahad and looked it over. “Aye, I told him he could never win a fight with this. I said it would break on the first strike. Christian repeatedly proved me wrong.” He looked up from the blade, meeting Arthur’s gaze head on. “Galahad speaks the truth. Christian would never willingly leave this here to be discovered unless foul play was involved.”

  “If what you say is true, then I will stall Lord Rimmon as long as I can. Find your son and return him to Camelot. Only then can we decide what to do about Rimmon and this marriage contract.”

  ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

  A bucket of foul smelling water hit him in the face. Lance’s head rolled to the side. He had no idea how long he’d been hanging from the c
hain in the center of the cave. It may have been hours, days, even weeks. The skin beneath the chain links was rubbed raw from his struggles. He wasn’t completely sure if Rim coated the iron with wolfsbane. He lost all sensation in his arms a long time ago. For all he knew, the poison had burned clear through to his bones by now.

  True to his word, the demon did a number on him. Lance’s eyes were swollen shut. He was positive Myst had shattered his cheekbones, if not the eye sockets themselves. He’d most likely be blind if he ever got out of there. His gums throbbed with every beat of his heart--a painful reminder his fangs were now history. The canines were ripped from his mouth the first night he was brought here. Dry blood from the extraction still coated his chin and neck, making his skin itch.

  The torture was excruciatingly slow as Rimmon peeled each one of Lance’s nails from his fingers and toes, until there was nothing left but bloody nubs in place of each digit. The demon took great pleasure in listening to his screams as each one came off. After a while, Lance blacked out. When that happened, Cyn was more than happy to throw another bucket of raw sewage at him.

  Amazingly, once they completed the de-fang, de-claw, and beat him senseless, he had been given a reprieve. At the time, he thanked God for it. He soon learned God had abandoned him.

  Myst released him from the chair and dragged his pain filled exhausted body to the table. The demon secured him spread eagle after ripping what clothes he had left covering him. His face was already so swollen and his mind so addled with pain, he didn’t realize what Rim planned on doing until he heard the hiss of a blade over a whetstone. By then his struggles became a moot point. He barely had any strength left to pull against the leather bindings holding him down.

  He remembered tears rolling from the corners of his eyes, burning the raw open wounds on his face. Lance refused to give Rim the satisfaction of a scream. The demon castrated him with one swipe of the blade. So quick he wasn’t even sure at first it had really happened. There was no mistaking the aroma of burning flesh the moment a red hot dagger touched his groin to cauterize it, though. The sizzle from the wound melding together echoed in his ears long after the blade cooled.

  After the gelding, they wasted no time stringing him up into his current position. Hanging by his wrists attached to a chain bolted in the roof of the cave.

  Rim boasted about what he would do to Elizabeth when he went to retrieve her that evening. Lance swore to the demon if he so much as touched one strand of her hair, He would return the favor and geld the mother fucker. Rimmon laughed and welcomed him to try.

  How long ago was that now? Lance had absolutely no idea.

  The bastard walked away and never looked back, leaving Lance with Myst and Cyn. Their sole instruction was to make sure Lance never emerged from the prison. The two demons gave it their best shot. Even Lance had no idea why he was still alive.

  A whip cracked behind him. Lance flinched. Apparently Myst opted for stinging pain today.

  Happy happy fucking joy joy.

  The first strike across his back was always the worst. He never knew when it would happen. Myst rarely made a sound. True to his name, the demon was like fog -silent and deadly. He went about creating a masterpiece of raw open skin across Lance’s back. After a few lashes, if he was lucky, Lance would black out. As usual, Cyn was right there dousing him with that god-damned bucket.

  Lance didn’t know which was worse, being crusted over by blood or sewage head to toe. The smells mingled with each other, permeating his muddled brain so well now he couldn’t tell the difference.

  The strip of leather whistled through the air, striking home. Lance hissed. His toes barely made contact with the dirt floor when he arched his back. Myst pulled back and a strip of skin went with the frayed end of the whip. Lance braced himself, waiting for the next blow. Myst didn’t disappoint. The next strike landed over his left shoulder. Again, the demon pulled back never letting the leather relax against Lance’s skin for long. Rinse and repeat. This went on until Myst was pleased with his artwork.

  The whip dropped onto the table where Rimmon’s torture implements were kept. Myst grabbed Lance’s shoulder and spun him around. He wobbled, thrown off balance by the rapid movement.

  The demon slapped him in the face a few times. “We go now, Dog.”

  “Same time tomorrow? I love our little play dates.” Lance tried to grin, but his mouth was so damaged, the slight movement ripped open the scabs making fresh blood ooze down his chin.

  “No. We not come back.”

  “Does that mean I get new playmates?”

  “No Dog. No one else coming.”

  No fucking way.

  Panic bubbled to the surface. Lance strained to open his eyes. But between the blood and pus from the lacerations on his face, they were glued shut. “You can’t fucking leave me here like this!”

  “We can and we will, Dog.”

  “You son of a bitch! Get me down!”

  Silence.

  The two demons left him hangingthere like a slab of meat in a cooler.

  Twenty Nine

  Black smoke seeped under the doors to the great hall. It floated along the rushes on the floor as everyone ate their evening meal. The inhabitants from the far reaches of Camelot gathered for the feast were somber at best. The conversations remained hushed. Sadness permeated the air.

  The smoke split. Heading off into all directions, it emitted the faint stench of sulfur in its wake pooling along the walls like stagnant water, waiting. Here and there someone raised their head from the food and conversation before them to sniff the air. They wrinkled their nose, looking around and returned their attention back to the trencher before them.

  As the meal drew to a close, parents collected their children and thanked King Arthur for the meal he shared with them. He waved them off with amicable grace, but his smile did not reach his eyes. Worry remained etched upon his face. At one point, Queen Guinevere leaned over to remind him they had to keep up the illusion everything was fine, that evil wasn’t waiting to come and destroy everything they had built and worked for. He owed it to his people to remain positive.

  When the last person filed out into the courtyard, The King sat back, heaving a sigh of relief. They could finally drop the pretense all was fine.

  Guinevere laced her fingers with his as she turned to Lady Elaine. “Have you heard any news yet? Did Galahad or Lancelot find him?”

  Lady Elaine stared into the cup in her hands. “Not a word. I thought there would have been something by now, but this is ridiculous.” She took a sip of the wine and placed it back on the table.

  “I am sure one of them will return soon. Between them they know this land better than most. Christian will be found. You have to keep your faith.”

  “My faith was lost a long time ago. I wish I could tell Elizabeth something, anything.” Elaine gave a short laugh. “Did you know I caught her in his room? She dressed in his archer’s clothing, the ones he wore the first night he arrived. She was prepared to sneak out of the castle and find him herself. I put a stop to that one. Someone in her condition shouldn’t be running around the forest.”

  “Aye, true. Come now Lady Elaine, I seem to remember you did much the same thing when we all thought Lancelot had gone mad. You were five months along with Galahad. It was you who brought him back to us safe and sound.” Arthur chuckled. “Your son is cut from the same strong cloth as his father. I am sure he is fighting to get back home to his family and Lady Elizabeth.”

  The black smoke rushed en masse to the center of the room. It swirled there cutting off anything more they would have said. The smoke dissipated revealing Lord Rimmon. The demon smirked at them and leaned a hip on their table.

  “I feel so slighted. Here you are discussing my bride and you seem to have forgotten to invite me to dine.” His eyes roamed over the room. “Where is my blushing betrothed anyway? Do you have her hidden away in a tower, perhaps with the ill-conceived notion that she needs protection from me?”


  The King rose. “She does need protection from you. Elizabeth is wed to another. Your betrothal contract is invalid.”

  Rimmon leaned across the table toward Elaine. “And how do you feel about this, My Lady? Your son weds another man’s betrothed and then vanishes. Seems like a match made in heaven to me. Do you honestly think he will return for her?”

  Elaine inclined her chin, staring the demon down. “Aye, I know he will. Christian would have never left without her in the first place unless he was forced. Do you know his whereabouts,” she challenged.

  Rim tapped his chin with a finger, feigning deep thought. “There is a possibility I do. But that does not mean I will share his location with you. I am having way too much fun with him right now.”

  Elaine snarled at him bearing her teeth. “Give me back my son.” The king placed a hand on hers. She pulled her hand out from under the King’s.

  “My dear Lady Elaine, are you making a futile attempt at threatening me? So sad to see a bitch without her fangs.” Rim lifted his hand and a ball of fire appeared out of thin air. It spun on his palm as he gazed into his crimson center. “Empty threats will not bring your boy back.” The ball stopped. “That is, if he still lives.”

  Shattering pottery echoed through the empty hall. The fire in Rimmon’s palm went out. He turned toward the quiet gasp that followed. An evil grin curled across his lips. He hopped off the table and with a few long strides came to a stop in front of Elizabeth.

  “If it isn’t my beautiful bride. Are you finally ready to become my wife?”

  Hatred filled Elizabeth’s eyes. She slapped him. “I will never be your wife. I am already wed to Christian.”

  Rimmon spat blood at the hem of her gown. “Your marriage is as dead as your wolf .”

  Elaine cried out in anguish.

  Elizabeth slapped him hard again making her palm sting. Tears pricked the corners of her eyes. “You bastard!”

  “As I told Christian before I gelded him, I always get what is mine.” He grabbed her about the waist, laughing. She struggled to get away. His hand closed around her neck. Elizabeth went still in his arms. “If you want to see that child of yours born, you will cease and come with me or I will tear the brat from your womb and feed it to the hounds of hell.” Before anyone could come to Elizabeth’s aid, they vanished into thin air.