Keeper of the Flame: Second in Command Series - Orrick

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Keeper of the Flame: Second in Command Series - Orrick Page 13

by Rose, Elizabeth


  She was about to start reading, but Noah was looking at her oddly. It was almost as if he was suddenly afraid of her. He jumped off the stool and ran toward the door.

  “Wait, Noah! I’m going to read to you. Where are you going?”

  The boy didn’t say anything. He just looked back over his shoulder with wide eyes, and disappeared out the door.

  “Hope?” Grace stuck her head inside the room again. “Noah just ran out of here like he had the devil on his heels.”

  “I know,” she said, picking up the book and sticking it in her pouch. “He must be afraid of the storm. We’d better get going before Orrick returns. I have the book and we can read it in the privacy of our own chamber.”

  “Hope, the torches just blew out. It’s so dark out here. I’m scared.” Thunder rumbled again and rain started blowing in through the window in Orrick’s tower room.

  “We’ll take the candle to guide us.” She picked up the candle out of the bottle, meaning to cradle the flame with her hand, but she didn’t need to. As she stepped out into the breezy corridor, the flame didn’t even seem to jump. It was strong and sturdy and not affected by the wind at all. She’d never seen anything like it.

  “I hear voices,” said Grace.

  “Don’t be frightened,” Hope tried to calm her. “I’ll protect you. Hold on to my arm and let’s go back to our bedchamber.”

  As Hope led the way down the dark, steep, winding staircase, the storm rumbled outside and hail pelted against the sills of the open arrow slit windows. The flame from the candle she held lit the area beautifully for being so small. It surprised Hope. It also surprised her how brave she felt at this very moment. It was as if no one or nothing could ever hurt her again.

  * * *

  Orrick made his way in the dark back up to his tower room, feeling good about the practice and only wishing the storm hadn’t caused them to stop. The last round was going so well that he was about to put Lord Irwin in his place and show him who the better warrior was after all. He knew Hope was there watching and that made him want to do it even more. Mayhap it was a bit pompous that Orrick was putting on a show for her.

  He wanted her to think of him as a young, strong, dashing knight. It felt good to be able to wield a sword again with ease. Too many years in the body of an old man can make one start to think they are worthless. The only mishap on the field was when his concentration was broken. He’d turned to look for Hope to make sure she was watching and, unfortunately, Lord Irwin used it to his advantage. Once again, he nicked Orrick’s sword hand pretty bad with his blade.

  It didn’t matter. The cut would be healed by the time he made his way back to the room. After all, he was invincible and immortal, being the Keeper of the Flame.

  Thunder crashed outside and lightning flashed through the arrow slit windows as he climbed the winding staircase to his room. Damn, he felt tired. And the cut on his hand stung like the devil. He also felt every one of his muscles aching from wielding his sword a good part of the day. He didn’t remember feeling like this in a very long time now.

  With a quick shake of his wrist he re-lit the torches in the corridor that had blown out. As he climbed the winding stairs to his tower room, his feet felt heavier and heavier with every step. What the hell was happening to him? He shouldn’t feel this bad.

  He got to the door and reached out for it, but his hand stilled when he found it already open. Any other warrior would have unsheathed his sword before he went into the room, but Orrick didn’t need to. He could use his magic to protect him from any intruder.

  He entered the room, seeing the flame burning on the hearth. Mayhap it was just his imagination, but it wasn’t burning as bright as before. Not seeing any intruders, he figured mayhap he didn’t close the door all the way and the wind just blew it open. He closed the door and walked in, feeling so tired that all he wanted to do was go to sleep. After removing his boots and weapon belt, he walked over to the bed, pulling off his tunic. That’s when he saw the wand he’d given Noah lying on his bed. He could also see the indentations from the boy’s feet as he probably jumped on the pallet.

  “Noah,” he said, shaking his head, realizing now that the boy had snuck into his chamber again to play. He’d have to start paying more attention to the lad because when he didn’t, the boy seemed to get into trouble. Heading over to the washbasin, Orrick poured water over his hand into the bowl, then put down the pitcher, splashing water on his face as well.

  When lightning lit up the room momentarily, his eyes fastened to the water in the basin that was a bright red. It shocked him to see so much blood coming from him. Normally, his wounds healed before he even had a chance to clean them.

  His hand throbbed, and when he looked down at it, he realized the cut was still gaping open and the blood spilling out. It wasn’t healing!

  “What the hell,” he mumbled, walking over to the flames on the hearth for more light to get a better look. Sure enough, the wound was still fresh. “Oh well,” he said to himself, emerging his hand into the fire to speed up the healing process. But when he felt the heat of the flame burning his flesh, he jumped back and screamed out loud.

  “Arrrrrgh,” he shouted in pain.

  “Orrick? Is that you screaming?” Lord Corbett poked his head into the room.

  “Come in. Quickly,” said Orrick, holding his hurt hand. “And close the door.”

  “What’s the matter?” asked Corbett, entering the room and closing the door and then making his way across the floor.

  “Look!” Orrick pushed his hand in front of Corbett’s face.

  “Egads,” said Corbett, jerking backward, studying Orrick’s hand. “What happened?”

  “I was hurt on the practice yard and just now I was burned. Burned, I tell you.”

  “How did you get burned?” asked Corbett nonchalantly.

  “I stuck my hand in the fire.”

  Corbett raised his brows. “All right. I’m not . . . sure what I’m supposed to say here.”

  “I’m invincible and immortal,” spat Orrick. “Or did you forget?”

  Corbett’s eyes narrowed as he surveyed Orrick’s hurt hand. “I know that. So why aren’t you healing?”

  “That’s exactly what I’d like to know. I entered the room to find the wand I gave Noah on the bed and the door was open.”

  “Not again. I’m sorry, Orrick. I can’t seem to control the boy. I’ll have to punish him I guess.”

  “That’s not the part I’m worried about.”

  “Nay?” Corbett pulled out a stool and sat down while Orrick paced.

  “I am the Keeper of the Flame.”

  “I know that part.”

  “My wounds heal instantly.”

  “Usually, that is so.”

  “I brought the Eternal Flame here from the cave since Hope saw it and I couldn’t leave it unprotected.”

  “Hope was at the cave? With you?” Corbett’s hands gripped the table.

  “Aye. I didn’t tell you that part,” said Orrick, holding his wounded hand and pacing over to the fire and back.

  “God’s eyes, Orrick, did something happen between you two?”

  “I have to admit it did. We made love.”

  “Nay! Please tell me that isn’t so.” Corbett covered his face with his hands.

  “I’m afraid it’s true,” Orrick told him.

  “What the hell were you thinking, old man?” Corbett’s palms hit the table. “I am her guardian and in case you’ve forgotten, she is betrothed to a man who is right here at Blake Castle. He, as well as her father, are going to kill me.”

  “Take it easy,” said Orrick. “And in case you haven’t noticed, I haven’t been an old man a lot lately. In my young body, I had needs. Not to mention, it was the power of the Eternal Flame that made us do it.”

  “That doesn’t make it any better. What are you going to do about it?”

  “Right now, that is the least of my worries. We have bigger things to concern ourselves with.”


  “What are you talking about?” asked Corbett.

  “Someone has stolen the Eternal Flame.”

  “What? Nay, you must be wrong. Didn’t you say you put it in the hearth?” Corbett turned to look at the hearth. “It’s still there and it’s still burning.”

  “Nay, it’s not the Eternal Flame I tell you. It’s gone!”

  “You’re just not thinking straight.” Corbett pushed up to a standing position. “Get cleaned up and join me for an ale. I’m parched.”

  “It’s not the Eternal Flame, I tell you. I’ll prove it to you.” Orrick picked up the basin of bloody water and threw it at the flames on the hearth. Between that and the burst of wind from the storm coming in through the window, the flame went out. “Did you see that?”

  “So?” asked Corbett. “You dosed the flame with water. What did you expect?”

  “My point exactly. The Eternal Flame cannot be extinguished, so that proves that the fire on the hearth was not it.”

  “I don’t understand,” said Corbett as they now talked in the dark. “What happened to it? How could someone take it?”

  With a wave of his hand the fire on the hearth relit itself, as well as a torch on the wall. Orrick spied something he hadn’t noticed before. Hurrying over to the trunk near the hearth, he reached down and felt the hardened wax atop it. He broke off a piece and brought it to his nose. “It’s scented beeswax. Sandalwood if I’m not mistaken. This is from my tabletop candle.”

  He hurried back to the table to find the empty bottle that once held the taper. “Look,” he said, pointing. “Someone took the candle and lit it from the fire in the hearth. And when they did, the Eternal Flame transferred to them. So now they are the Keeper of the Flame, not me.”

  “Egads, Orrick! Who would do such a thing?”

  Orrick looked back to the wand lying on the bed. “The only person who spends a lot of time in here is who would do it. I’m afraid Noah has stolen the Eternal Flame whether he did it on purpose or by accident.”

  “Noah?” Corbett’s concern showed on his face for the boy. “What does this mean?”

  Lightning flashed from outside the window again, and a loud crack of thunder seemed to rock the walls.

  “It means he is dealing with something that holds so much power that it can destroy him if he is not careful.”

  “Orrick, I don’t want the boy hurt.”

  “Neither do I,” said Orrick. “Noah is human. He doesn’t have magic. And because of that, the Eternal Flame’s power is going to be too much for him to handle. I’m not sure what will happen. All I know is that we need to find him and get the flame back at once.”

  “And if we don’t?” asked Corbett.

  “If we don’t –” Orrick looked down at his burned and bleeding hand, flinching from the pain. He hadn’t felt pain in a hundred years and now he wished he’d never feel it again. “If we don’t, I’m afraid it might kill him.”

  “Let’s go,” said Corbett, running for the door.

  Orrick grabbed a cloak hanging from a nail on the wall and hurried after Corbett, only hoping they weren’t already too late.

  Chapter 14

  Hope lay back in the bed she shared with her sister, opening the book she’d stolen from Orrick’s chamber, finally going to get a chance to read it.

  Grace mumbled from next to her and turned over, going back to sleep. The girl usually feared nothing, but thunderstorms did upset her. This one seemed to be the worst for some reason. It made her so jittery that she was even afraid of entering Orrick’s room. It took Hope most of the night just sitting with her and talking to calm the girl down. Now that Grace felt safe with Hope at her side, she would hopefully sleep peacefully until morning.

  “It’s too dark in here to read,” she said aloud, realizing the fire in the hearth across the room didn’t light the area by the bed. She wanted to stay near her sister in case she needed her, so sitting by the hearth to read wasn’t the best idea.

  Spying the burning candle she’d brought from Orrick’s chamber, she decided to move it next to the bed for light. She had stuck it in an empty bottle in her room and placed it on the table. Getting out of bed, Hope padded over the floor to get it. It was atop the table, flickering brightly.

  Like a moth drawn to a flame, Hope walked toward it with an outstretched arm. She felt good around this candle and it didn’t make sense. It was stolen. She should feel like a thief, but she didn’t. Instead, she felt strong, brave, and like nothing or no one could harm her. She’d never had this feeling before.

  There was a knock at the door and Hope’s heart jumped into her throat. Who would be coming to her room this late at night? Her eyes sought out Grace, still sleeping in the bed. Normally, Hope wouldn’t open the door but, for some reason, she didn’t fear who might be on the other side.

  Throwing a cloak around her night rail, she hurried over to the door, holding the candle in one hand. Pulling the door open, she was surprised to see her betrothed standing on the other side.

  “Lord Irwin?” Her brows dipped. “What are you doing here so late at night?”

  “I need to know how your exploration is going.” She smelled the strong scent of whisky on his breath. “Have you found the Eternal Flame for me yet? Or have you found anything at all to give us information on it?”

  The fire from the candle crackled as she held it up for light, seeing the deep shadows splayed across his face. He looked evil, she thought. Turning her head slightly, she looked at the Eternal Flame book lying atop the covers of the bed. She could have told him about it, but she didn’t want to. She’d yet to even have a chance to look at it and she wouldn’t risk him taking it from her.

  “Nay,” she lied, closing the door slightly and trying to block his view.

  “I thought you were sneaking into the sorcerer’s chamber today. What did you find there?”

  “I found nothing,” she told him. “The storm approached and I had to call off the exploration of his room.”

  “Dammit, I knew I should have done it myself. If so, I would have had that Infernal Flame by now.”

  “Eternal,” she corrected him, thinking she was starting to sound a lot like Orrick that first day that she’d met him.

  “Well, let me in and we’ll discuss a plan for the morning.” He tried to open the door, but she pushed back, not allowing him entry.

  “Nay, it is late and my sister is sleeping. Besides, it isn’t proper for a man to be in our room with us, especially late at night and while I’m in my night rail.”

  “Aye, so you are.” He grinned and his eyes roamed downward to her chest. “Mayhap I should get to know you a little better since you are my betrothed.”

  He tried to push the door open again, but she wouldn’t have it. Bravely, she stood up to him, all the while pushing back with her free hand.

  “You are despicable and I’d rather die than marry you.” Her words came out brasher than she’d meant them to, but she couldn’t take them back now.

  “How dare you speak to me in that manner.” His fist shot out and he punched her in the face. She stumbled backward into the room, almost dropping the candle. The flame fizzled and sputtered, almost as if it were as angry as she was right now. The coppery taste of blood from her split lip covered her lips and tongue.

  “Leave me alone,” she cried. “Get out of the room anon before I call for a guard.”

  “There are no guards near here,” he said, stepping into the room. “Besides, you are my betrothed so they won’t do anything to stop me from having you.”

  “Having me?” she asked.

  “That’s right. Before I give you up, I am going to get a taste of what I’d be missing if I didn’t marry you.” His hand shot out with his dagger in it and he used the blade to cut open the front of her night rail. She felt the scratch of the sharp edge as it grazed her flesh and drew blood.

  Looking down at her exposed breasts, she grew even angrier. And when he next reached out for her, she bit hi
s arm. He cried out in pain. With the courage of a warrior, she clenched her free hand into a fist, and punch him in the jaw. When she did, the hot wax of the candle spilled on his bare arm, making him cry out again.

  “Aaaaah,” he shouted, jumping back and holding his arm.

  “Stay out!” she spat, slamming the door in his face and sliding the cross bar to secure it.

  “Hope?” came the soft, sleepy voice of Grace from the bed. “Is someone here?”

  “Nay, everything is fine, Sister. Go back to sleep.”

  Setting the candle down by the bed, Hope went over to the washstand to cleanse her wounds. But when she put the wet cloth against her lip, she could no longer taste the blood or feel the pain. Looking down at her chest, she saw the torn cloth of her night rail but didn’t see the scratch from Irwin’s blade anywhere. How odd.

  Thinking it too dark to see it, she moved over to the bed and looked at her chest in the light of the candle. No scratch or blood at all. She must have imagined it. Then her hand went to her split lip, and her tongue shot out once more to taste the blood. There was no cut or blood at all. Mayhap it wasn’t as bad of a wound as she’d thought.

  Spying the book on the bed, she felt excited to read it and find out everything she wanted to know about the Eternal Flame. After putting the candle on the table, she slipped under the coverlet and opened the book once again. After tonight, she would know everything about the Eternal Flame, the Keeper of the Flame, and possibly even where to find it.

  * * *

  “Noah’s not in the great hall sleeping and no one has even seen him,” reported Corbett, meeting with Orrick outside the kitchen. It was late by now and the storm still raged outside.

  “The cook tells me he hasn’t been to the kitchen either. Wasn’t he in your solar?” asked Orrick.

  “Nay,” said Corbett. “And Devon hasn’t seen the boy either. She is very worried.”

  “I checked the tower room once again and he wasn’t hiding there either. Where do you think he went?”

 

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