by Wend Petzler
Dismissing the cloaked man, Nicolas and his men rode out of town, heading north. The search for the elusive Black Knights was fast becoming fruitless. Ready to call it a day, they rode around a blind curve in the road. Nicolas suddenly drew back his reins in alarm, his horse skidding to a halt. Upon the hill to his right stood the Demon Lord, riding a sable-colored warhorse, and to Nicolas’ further surprise, a troop of Black Knights surrounded them.
Gabriel raised his visor, grinning at successfully bagging the Red Dragon. “My lord, please forgive us. We did not mean to alarm you."
Stiffening with anger, Nicolas glared at the young whelp, thinking the knight needed to be taught a lesson in subtlety. “What are you doing out here? I did not issue patrols."
Shrugging his steel encased, broad shoulders unabashedly, Gabriel said, “You gave no orders at all to me and my men. We decided Lady Isabella's former orders are still in effect."
Nicolas reddened. Despite his declaration last night, the Black Army chose to ignore it. Seeking to get a handle on his temper, Nicolas gruffly ordered, “Is that Isabella up there?"
Giving Drago an odd look, Gabriel shook his head. “Does the Demon Look like a woman?"
Examining the silent figure, Nicolas concluded the black knight was a man. Examining the horse, he realized it was indeed Satan. Waving at the knight to approach, he frowned when the Demon Lord snubbed him and rode away. “Why does not the Demon stay?"
"The Demon Lord prefers to remain aloof. He heard what happened and desired news of Lady Isabella's health."
"How did he receive the news of our marriage?"
"Let us just say he will be keeping his eye on you. If you should step out of line and harm our Isabella, he promises to deal with you personally.” Gabriel warned, his usually good-natured features hard, dead serious.
Unsure if to be offended or threatened, he changed the subject. “It's getting late, ride with me. I have many questions which need answers."
Casting a long look at Drago's curt tone, Gabriel signaled his men to fall back. Twenty Black Knights backed their steeds away from Drago's men. Their helms remained closed and rode in pairs behind the angry, uncomfortable men who served the Red Dragon.
"How long have you served Lady Isabella?” Nicolas asked, watching the younger man closely, still uncertain if Gabriel had slept with Isabella or not.
"I've known Lady Isabella since her marriage to Lord Mordred."
"Were you squired to Lord Mordred?"
Somber, he answered cautiously, “Yea, I squired to Mordred."
"You must have been proud to serve such a great warrior. I wanted to, but my father remained adamant about me attending Edward.” Nicolas glanced at the silent man. “Gabriel?” he asked, concerned when he saw the haunted look in Gabriel's blue eyes.
Shaking himself mentally, Gabriel pushed the vile memories back, returning his attention to Drago. “My lord?"
"Gabriel, is there danger at Blood Keep which I should be made aware of? Who injured Isabella?” He watched the play of emotions flit across the younger man's expressive features.
"Lord Drago, is it the truth you seek? Are you prepared to listen despite all you think you know about Mordred?” Gabriel reined his warhorse to halt.
Nicolas halted his horse, too. “What do you mean? Mordred was one of our greatest knights."
Gabriel bowed his head in acceptance. “As you wish, my lord. I must beg your leave, duty calls.” Preparing to leave, Drago halted him.
"What are you searching for?"
"On the back roads, we sometimes find Scots raiding the outer farms, attempting to return to Scotland with their illegally gotten gain. We, the Black Knights, have the pleasure of teaching those thieves a lesson or two the mistake of stealing what belongs to Blood Keep.” Slamming down his visor, Gabriel kneed his horse, wheeling around. The Black Knights followed suit and in a flash, they were gone.
Nicolas sat his horse, rubbing the bridge of his nose to ease the tension, his head ached. What did Gabriel mean about Mordred?
"Master, mayhap the Black Knights will trust you if you prove your worth as their new baron."
"The key is Lady Isabella. If she learns I am not her enemy, perhaps we can find out what's happened at Blood Keep.” Nicolas smiled confidently, knowing how to go about winning his wife's devotion, if not her love.
Highly doubtful of Drago's course of action, Ahmed followed his master. Then again, it might prove interesting to watch the battle of wits and who the winner would be.
It was nightfall when Drago and his weary knights rode into Blood Keep's brightly lit courtyard. Squires led the tired horses to the stables as the exhausted knights entered the Keep. Supper was set and all waited for the Lord and Lady to begin eating. Nicolas’ armor was removed and handed over to a squire. A servant held a wooden bowl filled with water for Nicolas to wash off the grime from the long day on patrol. Taking the offered towel, he dried his hands, searching the hall for his wife. When he failed to find her, he motioned Aggie to come to him.
"Where is my wife?"
Aggie smiled happily. “Lady Isabella will be down any moment. Excuse me, my lord, but I'm needed in the kitchen.” The older woman hustled off with a secretive smile tossed in his direction.
Bemused, Nicolas made his way to his chair and waited. When a hush settled over the hall, he searched for the cause. His jaw dropped open in astonishment.
Isabella gracefully walked down the stairs wearing a beautiful peach velvet gown. Her small, full breasts were defined by the tight fitting bodice, slimming to a narrow waist, flaring along rounded hips. A plain gold circlet adorned her hair, the dark honey-gold length flowed down her back. Emerald eyes met his defiantly. She held her head high, shoulders squared proudly.
He stared at Isabella unable to move. His heart pounded inside his chest as his wife gracefully made her way to her chair beside him. Nicolas stared at Isabella in stunned silence. When she raised her eyes to meet his, uncertain of his response to her new attire, he took her slender hand in his. “My lady, I am honored by your beauty. You truly have no equal."
Drago spoke softly, his rich voice, pure black velvet, sent shivers of delight throughout her body. Isabella was left speechless, unable to believe Drago's words.
Gabriel leapt to his feet, pride shining in his blue eyes. Raising his cup high and in a booming voice, he attracted everyone's attention. “Black Knights, give honor to our Lady! She who has brought us out of darkness to give us light by her beauty and wisdom, we salute you, Lady Isabella.” Gabriel spoke strong with a ringing voice.
Michael faced his men with his own cup raised high. “Demons, rise to your feet! We toast you, Lady Isabella."
The men in black surged to their feet and roared, shaking the timbers high above the hall with their combined voice. “To Isabella!"
She blushed as her men saluted her. Drago stared at them, speechless. Unused to wearing a skirt, she nearly tripped, saved by Drago's arm holding her close to his side so none could see her stumble. She smiled gratefully as she sat down. “Thank you,” Isabella whispered, her cheeks flaming with embarrassment.
"I should be the one thanking you.” Nicolas laughed huskily as she flipped a long strand of hair over her partially bare shoulder, pretending to act as if he didn't affect her.
Pouring a cup of sweet wine for Isabella, Nicolas poured a generous amount for himself, needing reinforcement. His body was on fire, reacting to Isabella where he held her from tripping on the short train of her gown. From his greater height, Nicolas had a wondrous view of the ample swell of her breasts exposed by the daring low cut of the gown's neckline. Growing harder, he wondered if Isabella was healed enough for them to consummate their wedding vows. His conscience intervened. Nicolas forcibly reined in his lust. He was a man of honor, not a rutting boar!
Father Abraham blessed the meal before them and all ate ravenously, except Isabella. She ate sparingly, her stomach aflutter from the raw sensations Drago's heated gaze caused her. Me
n in the past had stared at her lustfully but never with such hunger or possession. She swallowed nervously, her thoughts running rampant. Isabella envisioned her husband naked. What would it feel like being crushed under his powerful body? Isabella shivered from the intensity of her thoughts mingled with the stifling heat of the hall. Her mouth went dry from the path of her thoughts. She drained her cup of wine and refilled it, downing it as well. What in the world was she to do? Isabella wondered frantically as she viewed her dangerous, sinfully handsome husband.
Nicolas noticed her flushed features and leaned close, whispering in her ear. “Isabella, are you all right?"
Isabella nearly flew out of her chair as his warm lips brushed the sensitive curve of her ear. What was wrong with her? She barely managed a nod and stammered out, “I'm fine, thank you."
Not convinced, he refilled her cup, his attention diverted when her hand brushed his thigh innocently. Nicolas almost groaned out loud as his arousal grew harder as he thought of being alone with his wife. Would the evening never end, he thought, almost laughing at their situation.
Sipping her wine, she quietly observed her husband. The candles caught the glints of reddish-gold in his brown hair, enhancing his devilish, handsome face. Drago was more than a warrior, he was charming and respectful, if not overbearing on occasions. The man still had a long way to go when it came to dealing with her. Isabella found herself wishing Drago would cease trying to control her and just accept her as she was.
Dinner finally came to an end and the tables were cleared, removed for the evening. An old man ambled to the center of the hall as people eagerly gathered to listen to the storyteller. He was provided a comfortable chair as the hall gradually grew silent, curious what story he would choose to weave for them tonight.
Eller unfolded his round frame from the chair, bowing to Drago, winking boldly at Isabella. “My lord, I welcome you to Blood Keep. Tonight, I believe it would be appropriate to spin the yarn about our dark warrior, the Demon Lord. Although he is absent, he has left his mark on all who take shelter in our dark castle. Your life included was touched by his strength, unselfishness, and compassion."
Isabella nearly choked on her wine.
Nicolas found he was captivated by the old storyteller's entrancing voice. He glanced at his wife, concerned by her pallor, appearing as if she was about to bolt. The storyteller's next words diverted his attention.
"The Demon's life is a series of woeful trials. Bereft of a mother who died bringing him into the world, earning his father's eternal hatred, the Demon was raised beside Lady Isabella. They grew up the best of friends, and he swore an oath to be by her side forever. When he was sixteen, he learned of a plot to assassinate the young king. Risking his own life, he saved Edward's. As a gesture of his eternal gratitude, the King personally knighted him. Offered a position to serve Edward, he declined, determined to keep his vow to protect Lady Isabella who was about to marry Lord Mordred, her dead sister's husband. He was by her side when she was.... “Eller paused dramatically, “widowed."
"With his tarnished angels ever guarding his back—golden Gabriel and the dark features of our avenging Michael, the Demon is invincible. He created the Black Army to defeat the enemies of the English Crown. All flee before our men, knowing the Demon and his men would crush all who dared defy the King."
Eller sat, his old, lined face sad as his eyes met Isabella's wide, frantic ones. “Alas our dark avenger has vanished. Did he depart knowing the King would not leave us unprotected? Perhaps, he was assured Edward would send us the great Red Dragon. Drago who is the honorable champion to the King, as our Demon Lord is England's avenging wraith."
"Or is our Demon really gone or is he merely waiting to collect his debt for saving Drago at Halidon Hill? In the heat of battle, a lone archer sent his arrow straight for Drago, saved by the Demon Lord who threw himself in front of him, saving him from a sure death. The two warriors were locked as one by a single arrow, their blood mingling.” Jumping to his feet, Eller pointed an accusing finger at the knights in black, then at Drago's men. “I say to you all, you are not separated in this battle of Life! As Drago and the Demon were united by an arrow, so are you when Lady Isabella married Nicolas Drago. Fret not about who should lead, or who should follow. Truth is the essential. Without truth, we are all doomed.” Eller exited the hall, leaving the occupants silently reflecting his words of wisdom.
The knights looked at one another as did the servants, shocked by the revelation that secrets kept from Drago could bring harm to their way of life. Isabella raised troubled eyes to Gabriel then Michael. They were as shaken as she was by Eller's revealing tale of the Demon Lord.
Nicolas thoughtfully sipped his wine, his mind dwelling on the debt he owed the Demon Lord. “Why did the Demon leave your services?"
The light from the candles making his handsome features appear harsh and cold. Isabella gathered her composure quickly and answered more calmly than she felt. “The Demon Lord left my service to attend personal business.” She knew she must remain calm though Eller's words had unsettled her.
"Will the Demon return to Blood Keep?"
"Only if I have need of him."
"We shall see, won't we?” Nicolas set his cup down and extended his hand to Isabella. “Shall we retire for the evening?” Hot, molten amber eyes gazed down at Isabella, challenging her to deny him.
Questioning what Drago was up to, Isabella searched his intense features. She saw no malice or harmful intent in Drago's steady gaze, only desire. Trusting him, Isabella placed her shaky hand in his much larger one, allowing him to aid her in standing. As they headed to their chambers, one of Drago's men hailed him.
Leo motioned for Drago to join him in a discussion with Otto and Brandon. “My lord, you must hear more about the history of Blood Keep."
Torn, Nicolas desired to explore more of the beautiful bounty she exposed but an opportunity to mend the rift ever widening with his men and the Demon's was far and few. A tentative truce was called. Nicolas knew he had no choice and kissed Isabella's parted lips, surprising her.
"Please forgive me, I won't be long.” Nicolas squeezed her hand before rejoining the knights gathered to talk of the old days and battles they shared. Ale and wine flowed as peace settled over the friction from differences of opinions.
Sighing bitterly, she couldn't help feeling deeply disappointed as she walked upstairs accompanied by Aggie. Had she really hoped Drago would take her tonight? A restless energy invaded her peace of mind as Aggie helped her undress. When she left, Isabella decided to don her leather garments, wishing to escape the loneliness overcoming her. Strapping the sword sheath between her shoulder blades, Isabella strode over to the fireplace and slid her fingers along the rough texture, seeking the hidden trigger to open the secret door. Lighting a torch, she slipped through the narrow doorway, closing it before descending down the stairwell leading to the very bowels of the Keep.
After they buried Mordred, Isabella instructed the wretched dungeons renovated into livable chambers in case of a siege. Stables were added for the warhorses and a large arena provided practice for both man and beast. She made her way to a smaller arena designed for sword practice. A shadowy figure stepped from the shadows. Isabella gasped and instinctively thrust the torch in front of her. Gabriel laughed, easily dodging the bright flames.
"Damn you, Gabriel! Why do you delight in frightening me?” Isabella snapped at him, setting the torch in an iron holder, freeing her sword.
He laughed heartily at her fierce scowl. “Isabella, you are far too serious of late. Besides, shouldn't you be in bed waiting for your husband like an obedient wife?” Gabriel teased, watching Isabella work the sword slowly through a series of low range motions, testing her healing back.
"Drago will be drinking till the wee morning hours knowing Otto and Brandon. If I don't exercise, I'll never get my strength back. Our clever enemy won't wait long to attack me again, especially when Alden hears I am wed to Drago and Blood Keep is o
ut of his reach once more.” Isabella swung the sword from side to side, wincing.
Gabriel sobered at the thought of the imminent reprisal their enemy would bring with his unquenchable thirst for revenge. “The Demon Lord needs be summoned soon. The men's morale is deteriorating, not to mention the Tournament of Demons is roughly two months away."
"Damn!” She'd forgotten about the tournament in the chaos of Drago's arrival had heaped on her. “Have we many entries this year?” she asked as she bent her knee, slowly thrusting forward, her back protesting the stretch of tender, healing skin and muscles.
"The usual. It would by an ideal way to bring the Demon out of the closet, so to speak.” Gabriel grinned at the irony of the statement.
Pondering the merits of using the tournament as a way to invite the Demon Lord home, she decided on a new course of action. “I will begin training again while Drago learns the ropes of the Keep. I will not be caught unaware again by our enemy. Tell Miles to bring Lucifer down here, I wish to ride."
"Has your husband seen it yet?” Gabriel asked softly, his blue eyes sympathetic when miserable tears welled in Isabella's, her soft lips pressed tightly from her predicament.
"Which one?” Isabella asked sarcastically. When he glared at her, she sighed, shaking her head. “No, he hasn't."
Confused, Gabriel cocked his head to the side. “Surely you and Drago have ... Umm, well, I mean ... You and he shared a bed.” He lamely stated.
Glaring at him for bringing up the subject, “Yea, we have shared a bed but not on an intimate level."
"Oh!” Surprised by the revelation, he continued, “I like Drago. He is a good man."
The radiance from the torches cast a golden halo about Gabriel's shining head. Unsure why, tears threatened to fall in her misery at her uncertainty what to do with her husband. “I fear Drago will hate me once he finds out."