by Wend Petzler
"Suddenly, she came alive. Isabella snarled, kicking Mordred off her, ramming a fist into his surprised face and held a dagger to his throat with the other. She swore he'd pay for his crimes committed upon her only sister. Isabella had come for revenge! She threw Mordred out of the chamber with his puny manhood exposed. Slamming the door shut, Isabella, bloody and furious, demanded my name and I told her. Eyes blazing, Isabella issued a warning I have never forgotten. If I ever stood by and watched a woman being brutally attacked again, she would hunt me down and kill me. Wiping her bloodied nose, she ordered me to find her man, Otto. In terrified awe, I ran to do her bidding because Isabella never gave into the pain, not shedding a single tear."
Gabriel drank the cup dry and refilled it, his hands shaking. “The next morning she emerged from her chamber dressed in a black leather tunic and hose, an evil-looking sword strapped to her back. At the same time, ten knights dressed in black armor, along with their captain, a man called the Demon Lord, rode into the courtyard. Mordred knew fear for the first time. His new wife was personally guarded by a dark knight who wore a hideous helm, a man sworn to protect Isabella forever.” The golden-haired knight sat back in his chair to gage Drago's reaction.
Nicolas reeled by the sheer strength of will his wife possessed, placing herself in harm's way to seek revenge. In a state of shock, he held his cup out to be refilled, drinking it in a single gulp. “What happened to Serenity?” Nicolas asked, needing to hear about Isabella's sister.
"Serenity had suffered beatings, broken bones, and rape at the hands of her own husband. She never complained, enduring it all in silence. Or so Mordred thought. Unknown to him, Serenity had secretly sent letters to Bella who lived at Middlesex at the time."
"Late one night, she overheard her husband plotting to assassinate King Edward. She immediately sent Brandon to Isabella with the urgent message—save the king! Bella sent the Demon Lord in time to save Edward but was unable to rescue her own sister. Mordred found out what Serenity had done and his rage was awful. She was eight months pregnant when he viciously beat her for betraying him."
Taking another drink, he continued, “I held her hand while she labored to bring her child into the world, despite her body broken from Mordred's heavy fists. Hours later, Aggie was finally able to deliver the baby boy. Serenity drew me to her, tears falling from her swollen eyes and whispered, ‘weep not for me, I have sent for the Demon and vengeance will be mine.’ She died with a triumphant smile on her barely recognizable face. We told Mordred she had died. He cared not because he needed the other sister to ensure his inheritance of their father's rich estates."
Nicolas’ face contorted. Fury burned inside him. His hero had been a charlatan. “Why did the King let Mordred live if he knew of the man's plot to murder him?"
"When Bella learned of her sister's death, she asked the king for Mordred's life. In gratitude for saving his life, Edward made only one request—Isabella was not to shed noble blood.” Gabriel smiled sadly as he rested his head back against the cushion watching Nicolas blink in cold shock at his words. “When Isabella came out of her chamber, she started a revolution without calling a single soul out. Many of the knights and squires had come to Castle Mor to be taught by the great and noble Lord Mordred, unknown to us what an evil man he truly was. Between Isabella and the Demon Lord, they set an example of what honor meant. Within four days, Mordred lost most of his men to her, the rest remained content to molest the servants and sit around indulging in feasts and wine.” Gabriel's mouth curled in disgust.
"Mordred seethed in impotent rage. He could not touch her without having his own life cut short by the Demon. So, Mordred took his rage out on others.” Gabriel swallowed hard, a lump forming in his throat. “The month was up when Mordred met his end. Isabella and the Demon Lord entered the hall, alarmed when everyone avoided looking at them. I guess they were ashamed.” Gabriel ground out hoarsely.
"Ashamed of what?” Nicolas had to ask the tormented knight.
"Ashamed of what was happening to me in the Lord's chamber,” he whispered roughly. “They ran upstairs and found us. Mordred was.... He hurt me. The Demon pulled Mordred off of me. Otto and the Black Knights hauled the screaming man from the chamber. I lay on the bed crying from the awful pain.” His breathing labored at the sickening memories.
"Isabella demanded my name and rank. I told her I was Lord Gabriel of Carlton. Then she smiled gently at me and said ‘Remember always who you are. Things can be done to our bodies, but inside our hearts, they can never take away who we truly are.’ Then a look of decisiveness came in her green eyes. ‘Come, Lord Gabriel, it is time for the Devil to pay his dues', she said. I gathered myself and followed her downstairs."
"Mordred screamed obscenities at us, foam frothed from his mouth. Surrounded by the Black Knights and those who found purpose in life again, all fully armored, we formed a square around the madman. The knights who remained perverse like Mordred were bound and gagged. Bella stepped inside the square, watching the half-naked man in disgust."
"She said, ‘You, Lord Mordred and the knights yonder are placed under arrest. You will stand trial before the King and Archbishop for the unholy acts committed upon another human being.’ Mordred began to convulse, his eyes bulging, his face mottled red, foam spewing from his mouth. Father Abraham prayed as Mordred screamed and the bastard fell to the floor, dead. We drew our swords and knelt in prayer. Isabella took Mordred's sword and gave it to me.” Gabriel drew his sword and handed it over to Nicolas. “I was ordered to bring honor back to this blade, cleansing the evil of its’ former bearer with acts of bravery and chivalry."
Impressed by the weight of the sword, the hilt fashioned of an angel, the hand guards her wings. Nicolas handed it back, his head spinning from what Gabriel told him.
"In a clear voice, she spoke to us as equals and told us Edward had bestowed the castle and lands to us. Our duty was to protect the border and prosper for England. We raised our swords and the castle fairly shook as we swore we would follow her to hell and back if she asked it.” Gabriel faced the new baron. “As you can see, I love Isabella. Not a physical love, but a love borne of friendship. Trust me, Drago, when I say, every man in Blood Keep loves Bella, as does every woman and child. She brought us from the mouth of Hell to the heaven we now enjoy."
A question persisted on Nicolas’ mind. “Why was the castle named Blood Keep?"
"She named it thus because of the blood shed to keep our families safe. Blood Keep is the binding of family and honor.” Yawning from the taxing day, Gabriel rose, bowing low to Drago. “The hour is late. I must bid you a good night, my lord.” Gabriel left to seek his bed.
Nicolas rose to his feet, watching Gabriel leave when Michael stepped from the shadows. The dark knight lifted his horn of ale to Drago and just as silently left. Desperate for fresh air, Nicolas headed outside to the ramparts. The half-moon graced the midnight sky and the stars twinkled brightly in the cool night air.
"Master?” Ahmed inquired softly.
"My old friend, I am lost on how to feel or react to what I've learned tonight. My childhood hero was a sodomite, a killer of women and my wife is responsible for ending his life!” He ran his hands through his thick hair, frustrated. “What the hell am I going to do?"
Ahmed smiled sympathetically. “Master, you must see past all you know. Is life so bad at Blood Keep? Are the way things done here really wrong? These people prosper and are happy. You can become a part of their family. It is your heart desires. Why fight it?"
Grinning ruefully at his friend's wise advice, he mulled over the many possibilities of being married to a woman who prized honor and family as he did. “I think I shall have a talk with my wife. Good-night, Ahmed.
* * * *
Cursing every male, placing her husband at the top of the list, Isabella returned to the lower chamber, away from any possible contact with Drago. Lucifer whinnied in greeting when she came in view, causing her to smile. Caressing his satin soft nose, Is
abella calmed. A certain satisfaction filled her when she had punched Drago, sending him flying on his noble backside.
Why did he have to be such an ass? It must be my lot to be saddled with men of his ink, she thought furiously. Hiding would not solve her problems. She had to settle the dispute with her husband, once for all.
Drawn to the same conclusion, Nicolas went in search for his wife. When he entered their chamber and failed to find her, he disrobed. Frustrated, he climbed into bed. Sleep came upon him filled with dreams of a green-eyed demon haunting him, tormenting him with hot desire and mind-ripping passion.
She used the secret door to their chamber, surprised to find Drago asleep. Unfastening the silvery buckle and doffed her sword, Isabella withdrew her sword, placing the scabbard quietly on the stone floor. Sadness enveloped her. Isabella gazed at his sleeping features, resting the Demon's sword across her lap.
Lord, Isabella thought miserably, Drago is breathtaking. Hair ruffled, the harsh beauty of his striking features almost boyish in the fire's light. Her heart ached, tears burned from the effort of not allowing them to be shed. It wasn't like she had a choice in her life. Could Drago not understand? How many times had she wished she could be graceful, elegant, and petite like the women of Edward's court? The King had long ago accepted her for who she was, why couldn't her own husband? Weariness washed over Isabella and before she realized it, she was sound asleep.
In his sleep, Nicolas reached for Isabella's supple body, needing to feel her snuggling up to him. His seeking hands found only empty pillows. Startled, he sat up, wildly looking about, finding her asleep in a chair beside him. Held firmly in her grip was the Demon's sword. The she-demon appeared to wink an emerald eye at him as if laughing at his predicament. Isabella's long hair was unbound, swirling around her slumped shoulders, her hauntingly beautiful features soft in the dawn's rosy glow.
A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. Careful not to startle her, Nicolas took the sword from her hand. Effortlessly, he lifted her from the chair, pleasantly surprised when her arms entwined around his neck, her soft lips brushing his neck. With one hand, Nicolas flipped the blankets back, laying her on the mattress. Feeling torn between joining his men and returning to bed with his wife, Nicolas decided his men could wait. Isabella had become more important to him. Crawling back in bed, Nicolas pulled her in the curves of his hard body and flipped the blankets over them, falling asleep again.
Sometime later, Isabella felt her cheek resting on warm flesh, her head strangely rising and falling. Wide green eyes rose to stare into smoldering ones of amber, darkening with his desire. Isabella surprised him, leaning up to hungrily meet his kiss, her tongue sliding along his, teasing him to take more what she offered.
Moaning, Nicolas demanded more with each seductive stroke of his velvet tongue. In a stunning move, he rolled her under him, his heavy weight pinned her to the mattress. Isabella melted, feeling no fear, only wild exhilaration fanning the fire in her blood as he ground his hips against hers, demanding she understand his need for her. She whimpered in helpless frustration, needing something more, unsure what, only instinctively knew Drago could ease her pain.
The loud pounding on the door startled them apart. Nicolas cursed vehemently as he stared down at her flushed face. “What the hell is wrong with this place? Don't they ever wait until we make an appearance?” His forehead rested briefly to hers before he roared at the person disturbing them. “What?"
Gabriel shouted through the door. “My lord, a farmstead was attacked. Patrols spotted the flames and were unable to salvage the house or barns. The men are ready to ride."
Nicolas leapt out of the bed, grabbing his pants, yelling for Gabriel to enter. Ahmed followed the knight and helped Nicolas don his armor.
She sat on the bed with a cold, sinking heart. Alden was not finished, not by a long shot. “Drago?” Unsure what her role was with her husband in charge, she waited in baited silence.
"Isabella, I want you to stay in the castle. Leo will secure the Keep.” Nicolas kissed her hard before rushing from the chamber, cinching his sword about his lean hips.
"Gabriel, watch his back,” Isabella ordered before he departed.
Placing his hand on his heart, Gabriel bowed to her. “I promise.” He hurried, too, from the chamber.
Useless.
She had become useless in her own home. No, she thought with conviction and leapt from the bed. Having fought far too long and hard to just become an ornament for her husband to gaze upon, pure determination set her fine jaw. Isabella raced downstairs and outside.
Scanning the still dark sky, dawn beginning to brighten the horizon, Nicolas ran and swung up onto his agitated stallion. Leading his own men out the raised gate followed by twenty Black Knights led by Gabriel, Nicolas glanced back, worried about leaving Isabella behind. What was he thinking? She was safe inside the Keep, he reasoned and rode out.
The enormous portcullis crashed behind the exiting knights. The Demons and the remaining Black Knights mulled about in confusion. Leo shouted orders, frustrated when they refused to obey. Isabella burst from the castle and the men turned to her for instructions.
When did she grab her sword? Isabella slammed the blade in its sheath, strapping the leather belt around her waist, assessing the situation before her. “Michael, get the archers up on the ramparts. Secure the Keep!” Isabella shouted, seeking out Brandon and Otto when she was forcibly stopped by a red-faced Leo.
"My lady, I was left in charge. I give the orders.” Leo took a threatening step toward her and skidded to a halt when Michael's sword sang, the sharp tip pressing to his heart.
Black eyes flat with the rage he felt, Michael spoke softly, “I have had just as much as I am going to take from you. Drago has ridden out to be met with an ambush. Do as Isabella says or I'll kill you here and now."
The scarred knight swallowed hard, fearful of the tall, menacing knight. He quickly made up his mind. “What do you want us to do?"
Satisfied, Isabella squeezed Leo's shoulder reassuringly. “Our enemy knows the Demon Lord is gone and have lured Drago out. They plan to keep him busy while the others attack the Keep, hoping to catch us unaware. Get your men up on the wall and make them visible alongside our archers.” She was about to speak with Michael when Leo halted her.
"Lady Isabella, is the Demon Lord really gone?” Leo asked, hesitant to know the answer.
A secretive half-smile curved her soft lips and she boldly winked at him before following Michael to the ramparts. Leo knew he should be shocked and outraged at the revelation, yet his heart lightened considerably. Drago's men had fought well with the Demon's and so they shall again. A grin lit his scarred features as he shouted orders to his men who remained behind.
Otto came running out of the castle holding the Demon's helm in one hand and his double edged axe in the other. “Who gets to be the Demon Lord?” he breathlessly inquired, following Isabella and Michael.
"Michael?” Isabella smiled sweetly when he handed her a long bow and a quiver of arrows which she slung over her back.
He wrinkled his nose in distaste. “Thanks,” he muttered, shaking out the long tail and donned the Demon's helm.
"Make sure you are visible. We need them to see the Demon Lord. It may encourage them to retreat faster.” Isabella stared out over the distance, praying Drago safe when she noticed the silks were not up. “Get the banners up! Drago's on the right, mine on the left. Move it!” Isabella shouted to the squires below who hurried to raise the silks.
Nearing the opened gate of the outer wall, they saw the dead guards, their throats slit. Nicolas sat his horse, alert for danger. The fine hairs on his neck rose and his warhorse was skittish. Gabriel rode with his sword drawn, keeping close to him and Ahmed. The red stallion reared, screaming a challenge. Nicolas reached for his sword. From the dark tunnel exited wild-looking men wearing brown plaid kilts and brandishing crude swords. Ambushed! Nicolas hacked at his attackers as the Scottish riders swarmed around
him and his men. The Black Knights suddenly surrounded him, blades flashing, forcing the enemy away from him. His men rode outside, hacking their way in, trapping their attackers in the middle. The fighting fierce, it ended as suddenly as it begun when their attackers realized their numbers were fast dwindling and fled.
Cursing his stupidity, Nicolas roared, “Back to the Keep! It's a ruse, back to the Keep.” Pushing his horse hard into a gallop, Nicolas felt fear thunder in his heart as they raced back to the castle. Isabella!
The bells rang, sounding the alarm when the Scots emerged from the forest on the southern wall. Isabella and her archers ran to take position and took careful aim, letting loose a black rain of arrows upon the attackers below. The Scots scattered. Not trusting the retreating enemy, Isabella scanned the forest through the bronze eyeglass, then to the road searching for Drago.
He was alive! His roar could be heard challenging the fleeing Scots. They turned to attack him and his charging knights. He stood in his stirrups, swinging his sword. The enemy decided they had enough, broke and ran into the safety of the trees. Drago let them go and headed to the rising gate. Running back to the main gate, she felt her heart soar, gladness filling her when she saw he was unharmed.
His searching eyes swept the courtyard for Isabella, spotting her as she recklessly dashed down the steep stairs, a bow in her hand. Nicolas stared in awe, her long hair flying behind her as she ran towards him. Dismounting, he handed the reins to Leo.
Isabella skidded to halt in front of Nicolas, undecided how to act, not really knowing what was proper. “Ahh, hell,” she muttered and tossed the bow to Otto before throwing herself into Drago's strong arms, not caring what was right or wrong anymore. Wrapping her arms around his sturdy neck, Isabella kissed him hard.
Surprised, Nicolas barely caught her, lifting her off the ground, his mouth claimed hers in a desperate need. Isabella was safe! He barely heard the laughter amongst the loud coughing and jokes as he set her feet back on the ground. Laughing himself, he gently brushed Isabella's flushed, happy face with the back of his long fingers. Emerald eyes hypnotized him as her soft lips parted breathlessly. Brandon hailed him, distracting him momentarily.