by C. C. Wiley
Sabine explored the tiny hideaway where she had stacked her father’s treasures. She was relieved to find the books were unharmed. The leather bound volumes brought comfort as she ran her fingers over the last book he had been reading the night he disappeared. Her father’s presence wrapped around her. She could almost hear his soothing baritone voice explaining the ancient rituals he had just read. He had repeated the myth of the riches buried near Clearmorrow.
Gentle puffs of air caressed her dusty skin; she lifted her face towards the low ceiling, and inhaled. Above her head, the tiny ventilation holes penetrated the earthen layer. They reached out to the blue skies above, carrying wonderfully fresh air. The velvety wisps brushed her skin.
Sabine’s breath caught in her throat. Muffled voices leaked through the ventilation.
Their buzzing conversation seized her, threatening to squeeze the air from her lungs. She held up a trembling hand and waved for Darrick’s attention.
Their backs to Sabine, the men were unaware of her frantic gestures. They were busily creating a strategy to inform King Henry of the changes that had taken place in the last year. They worried that their men-at-arms had found employment somewhere else. Times being what they were, most knights were forced to become mercenary soldiers for hire. The knowledge that most soldiers found it necessary to keep their families fed was certainly understandable. Gone were the days when a knight fought for his lord no matter the hunger or the conditions of the field.
Darrick voiced his concerns. “I fear my men may have given up all hope of my return. Nor do I know if any of my men survived the attack.”
“Do we know the numbers in DePierce’s band of thieves?” Nathan asked.
Terror seized her. Were the men stomping above their heads, the same band of men that ransacked the cavern? Sabine shook free of the paralyzing fear.
Her hand bumped against a teetering stack of books piled by her side. She picked up the nearest tome and launched it at his back. “Turn around,” she hissed.
Spinning around, his eyes filled with shock. His blade, pulled instantly from the scabbard at his waist, whistled through the air. The other knights gripped their swords, prepared to fight by his side.
His mouth snapped shut, his nostrils flared. “Never do that again, dear love.” His skin paled. “I might have harmed you.” He stared down at the leather bound volume lying at his feet.
Hooking it with the tip of his toe, he tossed it into the air. One flick of his wrist caught her father’s beloved tome with the blade of his sword. Balancing the book on the deadly edge, he held it out for Sabine to take.
She shook her head violently. Pressing one finger to her lips, she pointed over her head. Darrick cocked an eyebrow. Her frustration mounting, she continued to make wild gestures towards the ceiling.
Nathan sidestepped over to her brother and whispered out of the side of his mouth. “Tell me true, there is naught one drop of madness in your family, is there?”
“No!” He hissed back. “Perhaps ’tis a woman thing I have heard tell of. Should wear off in a day or two.” He hesitated, frowning at Sabine, “I think.”
“Would you two shut your mouths?” Darrick directed their attention to Sabine. “She grows more upset when you continue to talk.”
“God’s bones,” Nathan said. “She’s rolling her eyes.”
Elizabeth awoke to the commotion and approached the three brave knights from behind.
She slid her hands on Taron’s arm. “My dear, can’t you see she’s trying to tell you to be quiet?”
Sabine shut her eyes. Her body dropped in relief. Finally, she found another intelligent human being in the cavern.
Elizabeth continued, “If you would only but look you’d see that she is trying to warn you that there is something frightening overhead.”
“Of course there is.” Nathan pointed to the low ceiling. “We are in a damn rabbit’s warren.”
Sabine threw her hands in the air in exasperation. Perhaps she would retain her sanity if she just simply opened the hidden door to the entrance and held her wrists out for them to take her away.
“Can’t you hear them talking and stomping on the earth above us?”
She turned to Darrick, his eyes narrowing as he strained to hear. She stepped closer and grabbed his hand, pulling him to the spot where she had stood earlier. “Listen,” she whispered in his ear.
* * * *
Her cool fingers touched Darrick’s lips. He caught her hand, and pressed it to his chest. Words choked in his throat, the thought that he had almost gutted the woman he had decided to make the mother of his children, tore at his stomach. He tried to find the words to express the horror he felt. He had barely been able to divert his blade, coming deadly close to striking her down.
All he wanted was to pull her into his arms and wipe the fear from her dark eyes. He nibbled the tender column of her neck. It was just the beginning of so many places he would like to taste again. Her lids grew heavy as she leaned into his caress. Sabine quivered, arching her back, offering her body for him to explore. His tongue danced along her fevered flesh.
The buzzing in his ears grew louder, drawing his attention to the noise above. He cocked his head to one side, forcing his brain to concentrate on the sounds.
Sabine’s lids were heavy with passion. Someone cleared their throat from across the room. Her face flushed as awareness returned. Darrick shivered. His hands stilled. He shut his eyes and listened again to the words spoken by the men outside.
Keeping her in his arms, he walked Sabine over to the rest of their group. He motioned for them to move to the far side, away from the ventilation shafts.
“The voices she heard are real,” Darrick whispered. “There are small shafts bored into the ceiling.”
“Father had them drilled into the rock formations,” Sabine added. “Not only does this ventilation system permit fresh air to enter but it also lets voices carry through the rock.”
Darrick slid his fingers under her hair. The need to make contact with her warmth drove him to madness.
Sabine scrubbed at her flushed face and made an effort to step away. Darrick was not about to let her go.
“Taron, in case you’ve managed to forget, Father was a strategist and explorer. He knew the need to protect us would arise. Feeling threatened earlier in the year, he prepared for this exact emergency while continuing to search the volumes in his library.”
Taron turned on her. “Little sister, I would thank you to remember that I was on duty, doing the business of our king.”
“And what does he do to protect the families when he asks the men to go fight for him in a land we do not need.”
“Henry is our king.” Taron may have kept his voice low, but it snapped with fire.
“He may be your friend but he has done naught but take my family away. Allowing our home…your home…to come under attack by someone who should have never been given any position of power in the first place. He sold a title to DePierce that should have been earned with honor and bravery, not gold. How much was it that he paid? What more was our king able to conquer for the few measly gold coins that madman fed into his war chests?”
Sabine trembled in Darrick’s arms. He was relieved her anger had not yet turned on him.
She swung around to Elizabeth, shaking from the anger that had built up for too long. “Your brother did the same. He left you to fight a war that our country did not need. Even our fathers died because of this.”
Elizabeth locked her fingers together and shook her head. “Our father dispatched Darrick to France. Father would not accept him as his true heir but he was willing to let him assume the responsibility to die in his place. Darrick went in hopes of keeping honor affixed to our family’s name.”
“I went willingly to France to serve my king.” Darrick growled at Elizabeth. “By my choice and no others. I
earned that honor by the blood and sweat of my brow.
“It serves naught but evil to hold blame to King Henry for what has occurred at Balforth. The death of our fathers was not at the proclamation of our king. They died by the hand of a man that would have found another way to attack, even if we had all been home bouncing babies on our knees. You know as well as I that many a home and title have been lost at the royal court. You must not place the blame of our fathers’ death on our king. ’Tis treason what you say, and that, I cannot, and will not, allow! Especially if someone above our heads should happen to hear you.”
Sabine shook off his restraining arm. “How soon will the three of you leave to fight in another battle for our king? Will you do so, even after you one day become husbands or fathers?”
She turned on Taron. “You have already fathered a son. Are you so willing to leave him behind?”
Elizabeth backed into Taron until their legs touched and created a protective wall. “’Tis not a fair thing that you ask, Sabine. They have sworn on their honor to uphold our king. I know that as soon as King Henry gets word that we need his help, he will provide for our families.”
Darrick tilted Sabine’s chin. His soul slipped into the depth of her tear-stained eyes. He understood the terror she felt; left without protection or any means of fighting back. Had he ever heard her laugh freely, without a care or worry weighing on her shoulders?
He had seen her anger surface before. It would simmer for only so long and then like a bubble it would burst, dissipating in a matter of minutes. He had to calm her worries quickly.
This he must accomplish before the king’s men caught wind of her dissatisfaction. He too had his own disillusionment of Henry, but the man was still his friend and his king. He had taken a vow to serve him and on his honor as a knight, he was determined to do his duty.
“If the almighty should bless me with a family, I’ll do what I must to survive. I’ll fight to keep what I’ve gained.”
Tension flowed out of her limbs. He buried his nose in her silken golden mane and breathed in her fragrance. His breath caressed her neck.
“And when there are children running through our castle, I will continue to stand for what is mine. Striving to handle it in the way of my father and of your father. Protecting what is mine. Know that by the good graces of our king and through the courts I would strive for the safety of my family, working towards peace. ’Tis all I can promise.”
Sabine gazed up at his stern face and whispered. “But is it enough?”
“That remains to be seen.”
Raising his head, he nodded at Nathan. “I recognize one of the voices. King Henry’s men stand above. The stairwell leads to a hidden door. Press the stone in the center and it will swing open. Take Taron and Elizabeth with you. They have a much anticipated reunion with their son.”
Darrick arched a brow at Sabine’s brother. “Sir Taron of Clearmorrow, should our king agree to the union of our families you’ll have quite a bit of explaining and coaxing to do with your future mother in-law.”
Sabine slipped her hand into Darrick’s. He, too, may have thought those same arguments and worries, but to speak them aloud was dangerous in the unsettled times in which they lived. To find disfavor with the king could put them off their lands with no title or means of living.
Chapter 30
As the door slid open with a rush of cool air, Darrick and Sabine listened to the joyous reunion. With much thumping and pounding of backs, the men’s voices, filled with concern for their health, carried across the breeze.
Darrick flexed his fists, praying that no one else had overheard her angry words. She came from a long line of noblemen. She, of all people, should accept things the way they were without question. He could not understand what she expected.
He shoved the pain back into the corner of his mind, forcing his love behind a wall of indifference. Did she desire they spend their future together?
Even now, he was certain that she trembled with passion from his touch. His need for her grew against his chausses. He shifted, fighting the urge to grab her, press her back to the wall and fill her body with his. He would tend to his heart another time.
Brushing the dampened hair from her brow, he smiled longingly, “You’ll want to freshen up, love.” Full of yearning, his gaze traveled down her cheek to rest at her breasts. “Shall I wait for you?”
Sabine shook her head. “Greet your mother and the men. I’ll be fine. I need a moment alone.”
Reluctant to heed her request, he began to move away, allowing that it was necessary to search out his men and hear what news they carried. Weariness hung on her shoulders, drawing them down. He could feel the hurt in her eyes following his back. His foot rested on the first step as Sabine stopped him with her question.
“Do you believe I have shamed my family’s name by speaking what I feel? Is it wrong to dream of peace? To long for the villagers to return to the way things were?”
“No, ’tis right to dream of peace, but not at the expense of your family or the king.” Grimacing he leaned against the wall. “Do you truly want everything to go back the way it was?”
Sabine sighed, looking down at her hands bunched in the folds of her dress. “No, I suppose not everything,” she said. “I would not want to lose Chance.”
Darrick returned to clasp her shoulders, his hands kneading her tender neck. A curl had loosened from her braid, nestling beside her ear. It drew his attention to the silken mane. “Is that all you would keep?”
“No,” she admitted shyly. She turned to press her cheek against his large hands. The heat of her burned his flesh, igniting a fire raging inside his heart. She tilted her chin, inviting him to kiss the exposed skin.
“Tell me,” he whispered. “Aside from my young nephew, what else would you keep from returning the way it was?”
Sabine groaned as tension flowed from her body. He would forever be amazed at her body’s response to his touch. Her hands trembled. His heart clenched. He would protect and love her until they grew old together, watching their children and their children’s children running wild through the castle bailey. If only he knew that she loved him in the same way.
“Say it,” he growled.
He ran his hands along her arms, down to her ribs. Encircling her waist, he moved his hands upward, cupping her breasts, fingers caressing her nipples. The rosebuds pressed against the thin fabric of her gown, pebbling under his tantalizing touch. He drew her into his embrace, whispering his admiration for each part of her delicious body. Gathering her against his warm pulsing body, he pressed her to his growing need, groaning hungrily when she wriggled her delightful bottom, brushing against his heated form. His mouth moved in her hair, his lips brushing her sensitive scalp, causing her to shiver with his breath.
“Would you miss what we have together? Would your body betray you and yearn for my touch? Would you awaken in the middle of the night frantically searching for my heat, your appetite hungering to be set loose from the fires raging within?”
Sabine moved even closer to him, driven by the passion igniting their flesh with raw desire. His ears roared from the life coursing through his veins. With each stroke of her hands, hunger for the woman he’d given his heart to ran shivers down his back.
She matched him, kiss for kiss. Their tongues dueled and danced together, swirling and tasting the sweet nectar.
Darrick’s discipline slipped. Her feminine scent, heated with passion, threatened to drive him beyond all thought but one: To have her as his own.
But he had nearly failed before. If he let go of his tight-fisted control, his vow of protection would be lost.
And he could not give Sabine what she yearned for. She wanted promises of peace and what the future held. All he had knowledge of was learned from the back of his war-horse, broadsword in his fist. He had yet to speak with the king’s men and discover K
ing Henry’s mood towards his family. He knew naught if his father’s name held sway over the king’s decisions, or if Henry would keep Lockwood from his care.
He took a shuddering breath. Despite all those arguments, he could not let her go. He wrapped his arms around her and drew her into his arms.
* * * *
His tormented groan was a heady invitation, spreading fire to the core of her soul. Sabine found his eagerness for her touch exciting. He may have said naught of love, but she knew he desired her. As her feelings intensified, her resolve to distance her heart melted in his embrace.
It appeared that he had forgiven her for keeping secrets. His gentle patience allowed him to look past her outbursts and anger that sometimes spewed forth. He cared naught that she read from her father’s treasured books, nor that she sometimes had a talent for dressing up in disguises. Even her disastrous family and home did not send him running to the battlefield.
The growing hardened ridge in his chausses brushed against her hand. Swaying into his embrace, she ached for the fulfillment of his lovemaking. Eager for his touch, carrying her to forbidden places, Sabine trailed her hand to the band at his waist. The dark coils wrapped around the pads of her fingers, teasing her senses. He sucked in his breath when she lowered her hand, making a nest around his manhood. Wrapping her fingers around the velvet-sheathed steel, she stroked him as his mouth devoured her neck. His body shuddered, thrilling her with the knowledge that the mere touch of her hand drove him to distraction.
“Slowly, love,” he murmured, hoarse with passion. “Your touch burns me to the center of my soul.”
Lifting her in his arms, he dragged her across the front of his body. With agonizing care, he slowly brushed the tips of her nipples against the planes of his chest, grazing his burgeoning flesh, letting her body feel his urgent need.
Yielding to the captivating fire, she was drawn into the flame. She feared the intense fire raging inside would incinerate her. Praying for her knight to take her quickly, she tore at his tunic, urging him not to waste another breath.