Knight Treasures

by C. C. Wiley

  “Stop!” Sabine shouted, tossing in her sleep. What did the Lady Sabine of Clearmorrow fear even when in deep sleep?

  He paced back to her side, touched her skin. No fever. But demons haunted her dreams. What chased her from the peaceful rest she should have had by now?

  The sound of horses’ hooves stopped at the door. Extinguishing the lamp, Darrick crouched by Sabine’s bed and laid Chance in his makeshift cradle.

  The door swung open, allowing the heat they had worked so hard to build to escape from the room. The chilled air swirled, causing Chance to waken and cry.

  The intruder formed a shadow that filled the doorway. A four footed entity rushed through, knocking the trespasser to its knees. A bellow erupted from the thrashing body. As it began to rise on its haunches, another furred beast knocked it to its belly. The beast caught the cape with its teeth and began tugging at the fabric.

  Darrick grinned and whistled for Thunder to return to his side. The hound struggled to rise and ran over.

  “If you and that ugly beast are done wrestling, you may get up,” Darrick said. “Unless, of course, you are too old and stiff to move.”

  The familiar figure lay in the shadows, sucking in great gasps of air. “Do you forget how well I know you? I wager, not only do you have that whoreson dog to guard you, but you also have your trusted dagger in your fist. What I did not expect was a beast from hell and a screeching banshee to catch me off guard.”

  Darrick shifted to his side and nestled Chance a little closer. “No, since you and I parted ways, I found more to protect than my backside.”

  “Rightfully so,” Nathan said. He pulled himself from the floor and stood. “You’re right not to light the lamp. I have found many frightened vassals on these lands. They fear more than their own shadow. DePierce’s arm grows longer every day, but his strength weakens by the constant wielding of force he must show.”

  “Shut the door, will you?”

  Darrick rose and set about lighting a lantern as Nathan turned his attention to the door. He knew when Nathan spied the young woman lying on a pile of sails and old netting. Darrick turned. Surprise registered on Nathan’s usually unflappable face.

  “What have you here?” Taking a cautious step towards the woman, Nathan was greeted by the clatter of hooves racing towards him.

  “Matilda! Hold,” Darrick called out.

  The mangy goat stopped, and planted her feet in front of the prone woman.

  Nathan’s eyes widened at the sight of the baby. “Looks like you have been busy. Are there any more surprises?”

  Darrick chuckled. “Unlike you, my friend, I do not work that fast. Nonetheless, I do have some useful information. How did you fare? What did you discover at Balforth?”

  Nathan motioned to the woman. “Can she be trusted? I have some bits of information. Information, perhaps, only you, will understand.”

  “Trust her,” Darrick considered for a moment, before he spoke. “’Tis a fragile commodity at the moment. Be wary of her. I do not know how ’tis possible, but I believe she trusts me even less. For now, she sleeps. How long?” he shrugged. “Who can tell? We must speak quickly and carefully. She fits in this mire of vipers. Why? I have yet to unravel it all. Perhaps you have heard of her.” He bowed toward the woman. “I introduce, Lady Sabine of Clearmorrow. She is unaware I know her full name. Sabine is all she would reveal. I learned of the rest in the midst of her delirium.”

  Darrick stifled a wide yawn with the back of his hand. “She is not very trusting of others, for good reason I imagine. Terrified to return to Balforth. She is the old woman Rhys spoke of.”

  Speaking softly, he motioned towards the baby bundled by his side, “And this is my nephew.”

  “And Elizabeth?”

  Unable to meet his friend’s gaze, Darrick continued, “If I am to believe her story, Elizabeth was murdered.”

  “Elizabeth? Dead?”

  Darrick lifted his head, staring icily at his friend. “Mark my words; I will see her killers roasted on a spit. Their heads; impaled on a pike for all to see.”

  “I pray ’tis not true.” Nathan said.

  Darrick nodded, knowing no more need be said. His jaw cracked with impatience. “Tell me of the old man Rhys. Does he live?”

  “’Twas a miraculous recovery. He awaits our return from this cursed land.” Nathan peered at the baby. “If Hugh was killed in battle, then who is the father?”

  “I hoped the information you have would bring light to that very same question.”

  Nathan leaned forward. His hand on Darrick’s shoulder, he said, “As I walked through the local marketplace, I noticed someone we know from our childhood. One of the villagers from your family manor. When I finally convinced young Brendan that I meant him no harm, I discovered your brother-in-law Hugh sold a number of Lockwood serfs to DePierce. Moved to Balforth, they work the lands he has been gathering through every foul means possible. A handful of the elderly were left at Lockwood.”

  “The old ones we spoke with earlier? You talked with them again?”

  “Aye. They said the boys were taken from their families to work the fields. The young maidens have simply disappeared. Rumors are, he uses them, and then they are no more. Darrick, young Brendan had been working in Balforth for less than a fortnight. That could very well mean that our messenger was a ruse and our dear Lord Hugh is alive.”

  Darrick paced the cramped room. His exhausted mind tried to work out the twisted puzzle. If Hugh lives and is not the child’s father, then his nephew could still be in danger. Their time limited, they could not afford to tarry. He had to get them all to safety.

  “And the dungeon? Did you discover who is being held there?”

  Nathan shook his head. “I hate to report that I was unable to unearth that bit of information.”

  Darrick rubbed his forehead. The puzzle was a jumble of string all tied in one giant knot. Once he found the end, he could unravel the threads, one by one. Truth to be told, he was uncertain what he would find at the end, and if he would like the outcome.

  “What is our first move, Darrick?”

  “Discover who killed my sister.”

  “And what shall we do with them?”

  Chapter 7

  Sabine awoke to the sound of raised voices. Lying still, hardly breathing, she focused on their conversation and searched the room.

  Sir Darrick spoke to the man with the fiery hair. She was sure his shoulders were two ax handles wide. His hands, the size of hams that hung in the smokehouse, gently cradled the baby while he rocked back and forth, and listened intently to whatever Sir Darrick had to say.

  Sabine tried to move her legs ever so slightly but the weight of the pelt imprisoned her limbs, pressing them into the pallet. Lifting the fur off her body, she peeked under the covering. Confusion mounted; she could not recall how her clothing had disappeared. Nor how the bandage around her thigh came to be there without her knowledge.

  Her head ached and her discomfort rose as she heard the men talking. She wished they would finally agree on whatever they argued about and leave her in peace. She debated whether to stay where she was, nestled under the soft fur someone had tucked around her and forget her vow against DePierce, or let the men know she was ready to forge ahead. Closing her eyes, she tried to ignore them and pretend to sleep, but thoughts kept dancing in her head. Who was the stranger? Had she been betrayed yet again?

  While Sabine struggled with indecision, Chance began to fuss. Wrapping the fur around her chest, she planned how she would quietly slide off the makeshift bed and slip over to the baby. Perhaps she and the baby would best escape the wrath of DePierce on their own. They would fare just fine without the help of the overbearing man and his too large friend.

  Silence echoed over the room. The men had stopped talking and were watching her. Prepared for whatever battle they might th
row her way, she straightened her shoulders and glared.

  The man with the fiery flowing mane smiled like one of the fools who came to Clearmorrow to entertain her father and brother with their antics. His mouth stretched into a generous grin. He smothered the smirk, hiding his ill-concealed humor behind long tapered fingers.

  Sabine raised her chin in defiance and rose from the bed. The fur slipped, baring her shoulders for all to see. Her chin wobbled, threatening to drop under their scrutiny. She took a step and her feet entangled themselves in the folds of the fur. She dared not risk casting a glance at Sir Darrick’s frowning countenance.

  “I believe you have somewhere to go,” he growled at Nathan. “As you see for yourself, the lady is rested and will soon be ready to ride.”

  “So I see. However—”

  “Get the men ready. ’Tis time we took our leave of this place. We ride within the hour.”

  “What has changed your mind? I thought you wanted to stay until your patients were stronger. Although, after seeing the distraction you have, I can understand your hesitancy in moving from this cozy nest.”

  “Beware, Nathan,” he warned.

  Nathan waggled his brows. “Although, if I were you, I would take the time required to explore all the secrets that she carries.”

  “Leave us,” Darrick ordered.

  Nathan shrugged innocently. “As you wish, my friend. As you wish.”

  Sabine watched the man he called Nathan duck his head as he left with a broad grin plastered to his face. From where she stood, she could see the anger glittering in Sir Darrick’s eyes. As his hand shot out, she flinched, prepared for the blow that would strike her to the ground.

  “For the love of God, I meant only to steady you. I did not want you to fall and expose yourself any more than you already have,” he growled. “I realize ’tis an easy thing for you to find young Nathan to your liking. Most women do. However, he does not need your distraction. Too many lives depend on him.”

  “Why would I want that man’s attentions?” Sabine wrapped the heavy fur tightly around her shoulders and lifted her chin imperiously. “If you do not mind, I prefer privacy. I have a baby to care for. I am sure he is wet and hungry. Probably be too much to hope for, but have you thought to check on him? Or feed him?”

  She spun on her bare heel. The fur slipped from her grasp. Her heart thudded as she turned.

  Darrick stood unmoving, staring at the fur pooled at his feet. An unfamiliar heat curled in her belly.

  He bent down, very slowly, as if enjoying every inch of the view. He held the fur aloft. “I believe this is yours.”

  “If you are done looking your fill, I would appreciate the fur,” she snapped.

  Dangling the rich fur from his fingers, he held it out of reach. “Not at all, Milady, but I believe ’tis a problem if we waited for my fill. ’Tis a most hungering view.”

  Sabine eyed the offending man, knowing she would have to bend over even more if she ever wished to snatch the desired prize. “You really are a fool.” Grabbing the fur, she whipped it around her shoulders. “Oh, leave me be.”

  Darrick blinked and shook his head. “I cannot do as you wish. While we speak, my men are gathering to join us in our search for truth. The answers will be found. Like it or no, it matters not to me. We leave within the hour. Be prepared to ride to Balforth Castle.”

  “Wrong,” she ground out. Lord, but her jaw ached from grinding her teeth because of this man. “I travel by myself. You and your men will be caught before you reach the border of DePierce’s land. I already told you that I would not go back to his castle. I meant it then and I mean it now. I will not lose the very life that I have worked so hard to hold onto.”

  Covering the space between them in two steps, Darrick grabbed hold of Sabine’s arms. Pulling her close to his chest, he said, “You would put your desires before a helpless infant? Then, ’tis you, who is no different from DePierce. I had hoped that you were unlike all the other women I’ve had the misfortune of knowing.”

  Sabine struggled to pull free from Darrick’s grasp. “Release me at once. I never made you any promises.”

  “You promised to stay until I find a woman for my nephew. Do you deny your selfishness? ’Tis a shame your word cannot be trusted,” he sneered. “I pity you.”

  Running a finger down her cheek, he tapped her chin once to gain her attention. “Listen carefully,” he ordered. “You travel with me. How else will I ensure you will not betray me to DePierce?” He thrust her away and ground out another command. “Dress and be ready to travel by the time I return.”

  Sabine stumbled, grabbing his arm before she fell. “Please, try to understand, I cannot do what you ask, lest I become snared in his traps again.”

  Darrick stared deep into her eyes. Sabine squirmed as he searched for the answers, the truth to the secrets that she held.

  Desperate to stall the trip that loomed ahead, Sabine thought quickly as she made her last excuses in vain. “What of the baby? He needs feeding and his nappies changed. And…and my clothes,” she stuttered, nodding her head. “My clothes. They are unfit to wear. How do you expect me to travel in mud-soaked clothes? And I have no slippers, no shoes to cover my feet.”

  Trailing his fingers down her face, he smiled bitterly. “Had you noticed, instead of making doe-eyes at my large friend, you would have seen there is a clean dress and cloak laid at the foot of your mat. The shoes may be a tight fit, but I am sure you will make do.”

  Holding his hand up for silence, he continued, “Before you disparage the integrity of my manhood or my many useful qualities any further, know I am a capable uncle. One who takes great joy in caring for my nephew. He was fed and changed before you awoke.”

  Struggling to compose herself, she sputtered, “I do not know what to say…” Her hand danced across the fur pelt, smoothing the velvety surface. “I suppose I should thank you, I...”

  “I do not want your appreciation. I did it for the baby and for my men. You would have been an obstacle in the way of my plans. Even with all my planning, you still delay our ride. You are proof in what I have always believed to be true: women should not be allowed to follow camp. They make my men weak and slow. Their minds are occupied with the fairer sex, thinking about passion-filled days and nights, and their brief bit of pleasure brings nothing but disaster. It gets them slaughtered.”

  He brushed his fingers across the crest of her breasts. “Although,” he hesitated, his stance wavering, “perhaps some rules are meant to be broken.”

  Waves of heat flushed her cheeks. The warmth of his touch, the heat of his gaze, lured her. It offered the false promise of hope and passion for one another. The room spun in dizzying circles. Leaning against his chest, she steadied herself, trying to hold on to the fragments of her dignity. She fought the betrayal of her body as she felt drawn towards his bitter smile.

  Struggling to regain her senses, she recalled his cutting words and stared into his eyes. What she saw confused her. His gaze was cold as ice. His smile bitter from something eating at him from within. Shaking free, she was relieved to know that she was not the source of his despair. His pain was not her problem.

  She lowered her head and spoke through gritted teeth, “You misunderstand me. I do not offer an apology.”

  His chiseled jaw tightened as he prepared to argue. Before he could speak, she rushed to explain. “Do you not see? DePierce has people stationed everywhere. No one is to be trusted. Learn from my mistake. Those that I trusted are either dead or serve him.”

  Sabine grabbed the front of his gambeson and drew in his rigid form. In her efforts to gain his attention to her warnings, the fur fell away. The pelt caught between them before it landed on the floor.

  Darrick pried her fingers away and turned towards the door. “As I stated before, we leave when I am finished assigning duties. Bundle Chance up in the clean blanke
ts I have provided.” Ticking off her chores in stiff military fashion, he prepared to leave the fisherman’s crowded shed. The whisper in his voice, the only sign that his control battled against desire. “Beside the babe’s bed is the bag of goat’s milk. Put the extra in the flask. Rest assured, as long as you do not tarry there will be enough time to clothe yourself properly.”

  Their icy stares cut into each other like a knife. His cloak swirled as he turned to leave. He stopped at the door, adding, “When I return I expect you to be ready to ride.”

  Sabine turned to find something else to hurl at the door. She stopped before she tossed it against the wall, unable to break what was not hers. Marching across the dirt floor, she fumed when she thought of what that huge oaf had ordered.

  “Be ready, he says. What a hateful man. He thinks he cannot trust me. Me! I saved his nephew. Under whose power does he think he commands?”

  Chapter 8

  Sabine jumped at the pounding coming through the door. Her nerves were already frayed, and her heart thumped in her ears. “Go, away,” she shouted.

  “Sabine,” Darrick bellowed in return. “We go now.”

  Being of practical mind, she had prepared for travel while storming around the little room. Sabine tore open the door and stomped out with the baby.

  She tossed an order over her shoulder. “The baby’s rags are there by the door. If you would be so kind,” she added with an acidic smile, “please bring them to me.”

  The other big oaf was already seated on his mount. Sabine had to tilt her head back to see Sir Darrick sitting astride his horse. Her traitorous eyes traveled along his booted calf, noticing how the soft supple leather strained against his great calves. His muscular thighs tightened as he kept the horse still. Admiring the curve of his hip as he sat astride the saddle, her stomach flipped, going all tingly inside. Her eyes traveled up to his broad shoulders. A slight movement drew her gaze to his visage. His steel eyes gleamed back. Dear Lord, she was caught. Searching frantically, she looked around for anything to look at instead of the arrogant man sitting on the horse.