Angel's Assassin

by Laurel O'Donnell

  Damien looked at the blindfold, then at Aurora. “I don’t play games.”

  Aurora stared at him for a moment.

  In her bright blue eyes, Damien wasn’t sure if he saw disappointment or curiosity.

  She stroked the boy’s head and handed him the blindfold. “I am afraid that is all I have time for now.” A unison of disappointed voices welled up around her. “But we shall play on the morrow,” she quickly amended.

  The little boy at her skirt looked up at her. “You said you would play.”

  Aurora knelt before the child. “I can hardly neglect our guest,” she told him patiently. “We will have time later.”

  The boy lowered his head and kicked at an imaginary pebble before following the rest of the children down the hall.

  Aurora stood and looked at Damien. “I must apologize for touching you so… inappropriately.” She glanced away from him to study the floor, but not before he saw a slight smile curve her lips.

  Damien’s senses flared to life, responding to even the merest glimpse of her smile. She was so damned beautiful. Damien had liked her dainty fingers on his lips, the scent of her in his nostrils. It almost made a man forget who he was.

  “I must say that something like this has never happened before. We usually play in the field beyond the castle. With the current situation, I was advised not to leave the castle without an escort.”

  When she glanced up at him with luminescent blue eyes that sparkled in the torchlight, Damien was left breathless.

  “I hate to be a burden,” she added.

  She could never be a burden, he thought as he gazed at her. Her eyes were like gems on a portrait of perfection.

  Aurora turned and began to stroll down the corridor.

  Damien walked beside her for a silent moment. I’m leaving, he thought to tell her. But the words did not come out of his mouth. Just being with her was intoxicating him into wanting to remain at the castle. Her presence brought warmth to his cold soul, a feeling he hadn’t felt since… since he was a very young child.

  “Why did you save me?”

  The question caught Damien off guard. She stared at him with such open confusion he scowled. Did she know? Had she discovered why he was there?

  “I am forever in your debt,” she said quickly. “Please make no mistake. It is just that… well, you are not from Acquitaine. You are not one of my people, nor a guard. What interest could you have whether I lived or died?”

  Damien could not answer. What could he tell her? That she was the reason he had come to Acquitaine? That her life or death determined his freedom? That he hadn’t meant to save her as much as stop the assassin from stealing his freedom? In the end, a partial truth was enough. “How could I do nothing?”

  Her lovely brow wrinkled with perplexity. “But you endangered your life…”

  “It happens often,” Damien said softly.

  Aurora stared at him in distraught concern. “What do you do that often endangers your life?”

  Damien hesitated for a moment. He certainly couldn’t tell her the truth. Then, he smiled. “Save ladies from assassins.”

  Aurora returned his smile. “A true hero,” she said, a note of playfulness in her voice. “And I suppose there is a lady who needs saving in every town.”

  “There is always a lady who needs to be rescued.”

  “I should feel slighted. Here I believed you had done such a noble deed just for me and I find it is an everyday task for you.”

  “A deed is only noble in the eye of the beholder.”

  “It is,” Aurora agreed. “Then, your deed is more than noble. It is… treasured.”

  Damien stared at her. “I’ve never been treasured before.”

  Aurora looked deeply into his eyes. “A man with your talents should always be treasured.”

  “Killing is not usually seen as a treasured talent.”

  “I was speaking of saving my life.”

  Yes. He had saved her life. But for what purpose? His mission loomed large in the back of his mind. His freedom waited to be claimed. And yet, he was glad she was alive. “You’re welcome,” he finally said.

  Aurora nodded. “You will have a place of honor at the evening meal,” Aurora said.

  Damien saw the shadow of movement a moment too late. He shifted his gaze to look for it, but it had vanished around a corner. Tingles shot across the nape of his neck. He thought of pursuing the shadow, instinctively knowing what he had sensed was dangerous, instinctively knowing he had to eliminate the threat. But then he stopped suddenly and looked at Aurora. She had not seen it. How could he leave her side and let her be vulnerable to another attack? Maybe that was the shadow’s intent, to draw him away. Damn Roke. What game was he playing?

  A brown haired woman emerged from a room ahead of them. She looked left and then right. “Who is that?” Damien asked.

  Aurora looked at the woman. “Marie,” she answered. “She serves the evening meal.”

  Damien watched the serving woman until she disappeared around the corner, following in the path of the shadowy shape he had just seen.

  ***

  Long tables were filled to capacity in the Great Hall as Damien and Aurora entered for the evening meal.

  Damien stiffened as the murmur of conversations lowered and heads turned to them. Aurora seemed to be unaffected by the subtle change around them, but Damien had been trained to notice everything. Hands rose up so conversations could continue in hushed voices behind these discreet barriers. Bodies shifted subtly to face them, continuing to turn as they moved deeper into the vast space.

  Damien’s gaze swept the crowded hall. Scents of venison and rich wine floated in the air. Aurora moved toward a table, greeting one of the occupants, an elderly woman. Damien moved with her, her escort, an honored guest. The title was a mockery of who he really was.

  He searched the shadows and corners for the assassin he knew lurked nearby, letting his gaze take in the surrounding faces. Some watched him as well. And in their eyes was no form of welcome. Suspicion. Jealousy. Contempt.

  “Damien,” Aurora called and held out a hand to him.

  He moved up beside her and her hand touched his arm, sending warmth radiating through his body.

  “Hannah,” she said, “this is Damien.”

  The old woman smiled at him, a gap toothed grin. Wrinkles lined her eyes as she surveyed him. “The young man who saved you.”

  Aurora nodded.

  Damien inclined his head in greeting.

  “We are so lucky you were in the village this morning,” the old woman said, patting his hand. “Saving Aurora. You are a very brave man.”

  Damien nodded, watching as Aurora swept past him when another woman called out to her from a table length away.

  From the back of the room, servants balancing trays of mugs and goblets filtered through the swarm of seated people. Damien quickly spotted Marie as she came toward them.

  “Come to Acquitaine for the cider?” Hannah wondered.

  “No,” Damien answered, watching Marie move closer to him. She was carrying a tray with about ten goblets of wine. As she came to the table they were at, she began handing them out, randomly setting goblets before each person. A gleam of sweat lined her brow.

  “Did you come for the famous Acquitaine bread?” Hannah asked.

  “No,” Damien answered.

  Marie rounded the table, passing Damien. She paused to hand Hannah a goblet. Five goblets were left on the tray. Something caught his attention, but Marie moved on. It was the center goblet. Inner alarms sounded through his mind. He had seen something amiss, but could not exactly place it.

  “Then what did you come to our village for?” Hannah wondered.

  Marie walked toward Aurora, who was still talking with others at a nearby table.

  Damien turned his back to Hannah, his gaze focused on Marie. She reached past two goblets that were positioned on the tray closest to her, grabbing for the center goblet. She handed that goblet
to Aurora.

  Damien moved instantly, stalking towards Aurora.

  Aurora’s hand closed over the goblet handle as she smiled a thank you at Marie.

  His walk turned into a rush and he charged forward. “Stop!” he shouted.

  Aurora lifted the cup to her lips as she turned towards the sound of his voice.

  He wasn’t going to make it.

  Chapter Seven

  Damien swiped a hand across the goblet, sending it flying through the air. It thunked against the wall, the wine splattering along the stones with a violent splash of red spray. The dark liquid dripped down and disappeared amongst the rushes on the floor. One of the castle hounds padded over to the spill and began licking the wine from the wall.

  Aurora stood absolutely still, her blue eyes wide. Her hand was still raised where she had lifted the goblet, her fingers now empty.

  Around her, the room exploded into chaos. Knights rushed Damien, pushing him back, hooking their arms through his to pull him away from her. One knight drew his sword.

  “No!” Aurora screamed, grabbing the knight’s arm.

  Damien was shouting something, but Aurora couldn’t hear what it was through the pounding of blood in her ears and the shouts around her.

  “Stop!” she ordered in her most authoritative voice. The knight hesitated, a scowl on his brow, but he relaxed, lowered his sword, and then nodded at her. Aurora turned to Damien.

  He surged forward, his lips grit. The entire mass of men around him moved as one beneath his strength, but then he was shoved back by the sheer weight of their bodies.

  Aurora stepped forward, trying to shove between the guards and the knights. Jostled in the mix she ordered, “Stop!” The men nearest her hesitated and then withdrew, stepping back away from the tussle. “Remove your hands from him,” she ordered the men huddled around Damien.

  “M’lady!” one of the men gasped.

  She didn’t look to see who it was. She moved into the chaos to help free Damien. “Stop!” Finally, her voice managed to seep into the fray. Her men at arms straightened beneath her command. One by one she managed to get them to obey.

  “What is going on here?” a strong voice demanded, breaking through all the noise. It was her father’s voice.

  Damien ripped his arms free and came to stand in front of Aurora, grasping her arms to hold her steady directly in front of him. His gaze swept her face, resting on her lips. “Did you drink it?

  Those closest to them became silent, listening.

  For a moment, confusion swept through Aurora. She glanced around to see everyone was just as baffled as she. Then her gaze came to rest on the wall where the red wine had splashed and was dripping to the ground in rivulets of red liquid. The wall looked like it was bleeding. She looked back at Damien.

  “Did you drink it?” he repeated sternly.

  Fear coiled around her heart; her fingers dug into his arms. She licked her lips and tasted the bitter tang of the wine. “I…” For a moment she truly couldn’t remember if she had swallowed any. “Maybe…” The tart taste was in her mouth. “I think so.”

  Damien straightened, but his hands did not leave her arms.

  “It was a sip, that’s all,” she insisted, holding tight to him. “Why? What’s wrong?”

  “What is all of this?” The wall of men parted for her father. “Aurora?”

  Aurora barely heard him. She stared at Damien, watching his lips, dreading the words that would come out.

  “How do you feel?” Damien asked softly.

  Aurora took a moment to consider. Her heart hammered in her chest, but other than that… “Fine. Normal.”

  Damien’s scowl deepened. He turned his head to look back toward the kitchens.

  Beneath her hand where it rested on his arm, his muscles clenched tight with indecision. Then he shifted his gaze to the wall where the wine had splattered.

  Aurora followed his gaze. Through the mass of concerned people surrounding them, some standing, some sitting, all speaking in hushed tones, Aurora saw the castle hound greedily slurping at the dripping wine.

  Her father stepped up to her, his gaze shifting from Damien to Aurora. “Are you all right?”

  Aurora nodded, finally releasing Damien’s arms.

  “What happened?”

  Aurora shook her head in puzzlement, and looked at Damien.

  He was glancing all around as if looking for someone, and then he turned to her father. “I have reasons to believe the wine was poisoned.”

  Gasps sounded from some of the people closest to them.

  Gabriel snapped his gaze to Aurora. “How do you feel?” Without waiting for a response, he whirled to Sir Rupert. “Get an herbalist!”

  The murmuring around Aurora grew louder as the information spread.

  Gabriel looked back to his daughter. “Do you feel ill? Faint?”

  “No,” she stated matter of factly. “I… I do not feel ill.” She glanced at some of the people around her. A knight scowled fiercely, worry evident in his stare. Kathleen, the miller’s wife, held Teresa her youngest daughter to her side, staring with concern at Aurora. “Father, we should continue this in your solar.”

  Damien moved away from her to the wall where the dog finished licking up the spilled wine.

  A tremor of uncertainty shivered through Aurora. She looked at her father. “I am not sure what happened. Damien --” She found him near the wall as he bent and picked something up. The hound yawned lazily and sat down near the edge of a table, waiting for any scraps to drop. “-- slapped the cup from my hand.” She looked at her father again. “I am not ill.”

  Lord Gabriel scowled as Damien approached.

  “It was the servant, Marie,” Damien said.

  More murmurs echoed around them.

  Aurora held up her hand. “We should continue this conversation in the solar. Damien, will you escort me?”

  He nodded to her, bowing slightly. She saw him look into the goblet in his hand and frown slightly.

  “Let me settle the men’s nerves and I will join you shortly,” Lord Gabriel said.

  “The herbalist?” Damien reminded.

  Gabriel nodded. “We’ll have him sent to the solar.” He moved away toward a group of knights.

  Aurora turned and headed to the rear doors of the Great Hall. A hound wandered over to Aurora’s side. It nuzzled its nose against her palm. She bent and cupped its head in her hands. “Hello, boy.” She scratched behind the animal’s ears. “Have you come to check on my well-being?”

  The dog whimpered.

  Aurora smiled and then looked up at Damien. His perpetual frown had eased and she was grateful for that, but as her gaze fell, she saw he still held tightly to the goblet.

  She walked into the quieter hallway and took a deep breath. “You scared me,” she admitted.

  “How are you feeling?” Damien wondered softly.

  She nodded. “Well.” She placed a light hand on his arm and said kindly, “Everyone is wrong sometimes.”

  “I am not wrong,” he insisted and raised the cup toward Aurora. “I saw that woman, that servant, deliberately pick this goblet and give it to you. Tell me why she would do such a thing? I watched her do it. She was putting the cups down in front of everyone, just placing them as she went. When she reached you, she didn’t take the next one. She deliberately chose this goblet.”

  “Marie is a loyal servant. I’ve known her for years…” Aurora spotted one of the guards posted at the door glance sideways at her. She began to walk down the hall toward the stairway to the solar.

  Damien joined her. “There, look there. It was marked.”

  Aurora paused to look at the goblet he pointed to. It looked like an ‘x’ scratched into the surface. It was very faint, but noticeable now that he pointed to it. Doubt crept into her for a moment, but she quickly replaced it with conviction. “Marie would never betray me.” Aurora shook her head firmly. “She would never hurt me.”

  “Perhaps not,” Damien
agreed. “But do you know everything about her? Her friends, her enemies, her lovers? People are sometimes forced to do things they don’t want to do to protect themselves or to protect someone they love. Someone might have forced her to do it. Or lied to her about what the wine contained.”

  “I think given the chance, people will do what is right,” she said slowly. “I don’t think Marie would have intentionally tried to poison me.”

  “I think given the chance people will do what is best for themselves,” Damien said. “Someone might have lied to her or tricked her into giving it to you.”

  “But there was no poison in the wine,” Aurora said quietly.

  Damien stared at her with an intense gaze and Aurora began to doubt her conviction. Father has ordered an herbalist, she reminded herself, and I only drank a sip. She nodded and turned, leading the way to the solar.

  They entered a stairway and a feeling of nausea overwhelmed her. She paused and grit her teeth. Coincidence? She rubbed her stomach and hesitated.

  “Aurora?”

  She looked for him. In the darkness of the stairwell, he all but disappeared. “I’m not feeling very well,” she admitted. The nausea rose into full-fledged pain. Agony flared through her and she grit her teeth. She parted her lips and a groan escaped. “Bring me to my room.”

  Damien scooped her up in his arms, taking the stairs two at a time. He moved quickly through the hallway, following Aurora’s muted directions to her bedroom. He kicked the door open to her room and eased her to her feet.

  Aurora immediately rushed to the chamber pot. Violent spasms wracked her body as she heaved into the pot. When she finished, she slid down to her knees, weak and spent. Tears rolled over her cheeks. She clutched her stomach as fiery pain spiked up from her midsection and radiated out into her entire body. She curled into a tight ball on the floor.

  Damien picked her up, carefully laying her upon her bed. He brushed her hair back away from her brow.

  “I’m not like my mother,” she wept. “Why would Marie do this? What have I done?”