Angie Arms - Flame Series 03

by The Darkest Flame

  Ryann almost sent him away, but realized she found herself suddenly famished and thought the children might be too. "Send food to us," she said.

  Marcus nodded to her, then left her alone with the two children. She continued to hold Will until his sobs quieted and his breathing turned even and he fell into a deep sleep. She slipped him from her lap and settled him on the pillows, pulling the covers up snuggly around his chin. Jill immediately tried to crawl in beside him, but she pulled her back gently, placing a finger to her own lips to indicate she was to be quiet.

  "I think your brother would like it if you were to eat. Do you agree?"

  The child seemed to think for a moment, then nodded her head vigorously. It was just a few moments later one of the women entered the chamber with a tray of food and three goblets filled with milk. Ryann seated Jill at the table and they ate silently, until Ryann realized the girl had had her fill, then moved her back to the bed and let her climb beneath the covers to settle in beside her brother. She snuggled close to him and within moments her even breaths matched his. Now the chamber did not seem so empty. She had to wonder if Garrick was returned safely and he returned to the ways of war, would she be content enough with her children. Her mind told her she would have to be, but her heart told her she would not. How could she have fallen in love with the dark man that was her husband already? Did love not take time to develop? She had heard of love at first sight, but had never believed such nonsense. It was not love she felt the first time she saw Garrick, she remembered her fear and apprehension for the things yet to come. Perhaps it was time that had dulled her fear of him, made her forget it all together, because everyone else who knew her husband feared him. Perhaps she was foolish because she did not.

  Having eaten and her mind racing away with her, she quickly left the chamber and made her way back to the hall. She picked her way through those already lying prone on the floor where they slept nightly, and eased her way slowly outside and into the courtyard. She paused after stepping through the doorway, and breathed in the fresh air, the bite of the chill night worried her further. Despite the fact her husband was the strongest warrior in the land, she feared he was cold and hungry. He had gone so long with no one to care for him, she felt an ache within her breast, a need so strong she felt empty, because she could not care for him now.

  "How are the children?" the drunken voice asked from the shadows next to the keep wall.

  She squinted into the darkness and recognized the silhouette of Roland, as he stepped from the black shadows into the light of the moon, as it fought its way from behind the heavy clouds. He teetered toward her, struggling with his pants, obviously having just relieved himself. She knew it was wrong, yet she could not help herself as she looked at that male part of him. Her experience was limited, fear had closed her mind to the men who stole her innocence, but now she felt a keen curiosity for that private male part. It wasn't as if Roland was aware of her perusal, he could barely stand, much less sheath himself back properly, the very effort was enough he nearly fell. Ryann knew immediately not all men were made the same, for by the look of his size he could rip her apart. The length itself was impressive, and she had enough experience to know the limp state he was now in was the smaller size. If this man was turned on, he would very likely be able to touch her lungs if he were to have sex with her. She did not think Garrick was nearly as large, and she found herself fervently hoping he was not. Not only was the length of him impressive, but the girth as well, large enough she did not think her hand could wrap completely around him. How on earth did women accommodate a man of his size?

  "I think the lady likes what she sees," he said with a chuckle, as he actually waved it at her.

  "I think you are drunk," she retorted.

  "I think you are a slut," he said, taking a step forward and tripping onto the first of three steps that led up to her. He fell to his knees and ungracefully rolled onto his back, that part of him falling to the side. Leaning back on his elbows he had to tilt his head backward to look up at her. "Come ride me," he said, and to her amusement, she could not quite understand, he flexed that part of himself so it nearly rose to its full size, and he winked at her.

  "Garrick would kill you," she said, knowing she should feel insulted by this grown man at her feet, but she felt sympathy.

  "I don't care," he said, dropping his head forward again so he looked over the courtyard. He was silent for a moment as she studied him. She could not get over his handsomeness, and wondered what the old Roland was like. "I want to die," the words came out in a mumble.

  "Why is that?" she asked, looking down at him.

  "Because you've taken all the women," he said angrily as he pierced her again with his eyes. "What am I to do without the whores?" he asked, as he looked forward again and down at his naked self still hanging from his pants. He shrugged took himself in his hands and stroked his length for two strokes, before he finally managed to slide it back where it should have been to begin with.

  "I need a whore."

  "You need no such thing."

  Again his head rolled back. "I have no wife," he stated, then stilled.

  "But you have children."

  "No," he said, shaking his head and looking forward once again. "They look like her," he mumbled.

  Now that he was properly clothed, she took the two steps to sit beside him. "Doesn't that mean a part of her lives on?"

  He turned to her and the starkness of his eyes as they stared at her even through his drunkenness, made her want to throw her arms around his neck and apologize for their king. "I see her die every time I look at them."

  Ryann found it difficult to swallow. She could have come up with helpful advice that would help him and his children in response to anything he might have said. Anything except that. She only stared at him as he stared at her. Suddenly the rage was there, drowning out all the sorrow, the emotion he used to deal with his loss, and he shoved her roughly away from him.

  He lurched to his feet. "Stay away from me," he said, as he began to stumble away. "You can't fix me," he mumbled. He said more, but he had walked too far out of earshot she could not make it out, then he disappeared into the shadows again on the far side of the courtyard.

  Sitting on the steps she felt so alone. Unlike any time in her life. She had always believed in the righteousness of her supreme ruler. Had believed he made wise decisions that governed their land. Yet, she discovered since meeting Garrick and his men, the King was just a man. A cruel vicious man who used his power for evil. People were willing to fall at his feet, yet ran in fear of Garrick. What a horrible world she found herself in. Her only protection from the King and he was missing. No one else would stand up to the great king, but she did not doubt the Fenton Bastard would. No, how could he? He had her now, and one day, if he returned, they would have children together. How could he be undefeatable with a king who could kill them all, so Garrick would do his bidding? How could any of them ever be safe?

  She folded her arms around her knees, burying her head in them and began rocking back and forth, sobbing silently.

  ~ ~ ~ ~

  "That is my ribbon!"

  "No, Roark gave it to me!"

  "He did not! Halvor gave it to me!"

  "You lie, it was Roark's gift."

  The raised female voices outside the chamber awoke Ryann the next morning. Jill was curled against her with Will on the other side, and their warmth and mere presence made her night a restful one, the first since Garrick went missing.

  "Tell her Halvor," one of the voices demanded.

  "Tell her what my pet?"

  "That you gave me this ribbon."

  "How would he know, he's a man. He does not keep up with such things."

  "You are correct my little angel. I could not say if I gave it or not."

  Ryann was intrigued by the gentle voice of Halvor, and she guessed his sisters must have arrived with Damien the previous evening.

  "You two will wake the entire occupa
nts of the keep." another voice admonished, joining them in the hallway.

  "But it is a beautiful morning my beauty," Halvor said, as Ryann quietly climbed from the bed. She heard pride in his voice.

  Still dressed from the evening before, she smoothed some of the wrinkles from her, and quickly combing her fingers through her hair, she pulled it back to be held by a small clasp, and stepped from behind the tapestry.

  The eyes of three young women turned to her, and she almost gasped at the feminine replica of Halvor in each of those faces.

  "Lady Ryann, I wish you to meet three of my sisters. This is Brenda, Carling and Ella."

  Each lady gave a slight curtsy and she studied them hard to discern their differences. Brenda was obviously the oldest, but by no more than two years. The other two were closer in age, and very closely matched in appearance, however Ella's dark brown, nearly black hair was longer, a little thicker, the dark lashes ringing her hazel eyes were a little thicker and longer. Running feet and giggle drew their attention down the hallway where two girls burst from around the corner, and Ryann knew instantly these were Halvor's sisters as well, though young, they were still the spitting image of the others.

  "Girls!" came a frantic call from out of site, before two more girls came into view.

  The youngest squealed and flung herself at her brother, who snatched her up into his arms and planted a kiss on top of her head. "Did you sleep well Precious?"

  "Like a baby," she said with a laugh, and Halvor tickled her, then laughed at her squeal.

  "Allow me to introduce you to the rest of my sisters. This is the youngest, Rowena but we call her Ro."

  "Not Halvor, he calls me Precious," she said proudly.

  Halvor's lips quirked into an impish grin that brought a smile to Ryann's lips. "I do indeed."

  "This is Leigh," he said, indicating the girl who could be no older than eight.

  "She is Darling," Ro supplied.

  Halvor chuckled then indicated the next girl, who appeared about two years older, "This is Heather."

  "Lovely," Ro said, only to be tickled by her brother again, and she peeled into a fit of giggles.

  The next sister was another two years older and the most different, which was not saying much since she had the same coloring as all the others, but her hair was full of natural curls that bounced when she moved. "This is Ember."

  "Sweetheart," Ro said quickly, and leaning over tried to tickle Halvor. He returned the favor and the girl had another fit of giggles.

  "And what does Halvor call Brenda, Carling and Ella?" Ryann asked, warmed by the sunshine these girls brought to her heart with their smiles and laughter.

  "Brenda is Beauty, Carling is Pet and Ella is Angel."

  "You have a very beautiful family," Ryann told Halvor.

  "Thank you my lady. I request a moment with you."

  "Of course Sir Halvor."

  "Lady Ryann?" the tentative voice said from behind her. She turned to see Will standing just outside her chamber, Jill's hand clasped tightly in his.

  "Good morning Will," Halvor said, in his gentle voice he used with his sisters.

  "Sir Halvor," Will responded, standing a little straighter, even though he wiped sleep from his eyes.

  "Are you all ready to eat?" Ryann asked the girls.

  Several nods answered her question. She turned to Will, "Go with these ladies and see they arrive safely to the hall."

  "Yes my lady," Will said, and pulling his sister along behind him, he followed Halvor's sisters.

  "I request you allow my sisters to stay when Lord Damien returns to his own keep."

  "Of course Sir Halvor, I would be honored to have them here."

  "Thank you my lady. I will be forever in your service."

  "I'll hold you to that," she said with a smile. "Escort me to the hall?" Ryann asked, with a smile.

  Halvor shook his head. "We're moving the armies out. Today is the day we return our lord to his home."

  "I truly hope so," she said, placing a hand on his arm.

  "I know my lady," he said, patting her hand before turning abruptly and leaving her.

  By the time Ryann arrived in the hall, all the warriors had departed, and only the women and very young and old men remained. She took her place on the dais with a smile to Christopher then faltered as she began to pull her seat out.

  "Christopher, where is the rest of my guard?"

  Immediately the man she knew since she was a child, looked uncomfortable. When he was not forthcoming with the information, she quirked a questioning brow at him.

  He licked his lips, looked over her shoulder as if searching for help there, then back at her. "They are missing my lady."

  "Missing, all of them?"

  "Yes my lady."

  "Since when?"

  "Since Garrick also went missing."

  "And you chose not to tell me this?"

  "I did not realize the first day, still was not sure the second."

  "And now?" she questioned irritably.

  "They are not here."

  Ryann stared at the man before her, as fear took root. Could this be another attempt to take her from Garrick? Her husband was not there to protect her, and now not only his army but Damien's were off searching the countryside for him, and left her quite vulnerable.

  "How many soldiers have been left?"

  "A minimal amount my Lady, but enough to secure the keep if need be."

  "Are you sure?" she asked, feeling guilt for questioning the man who knew his job well, but unable to push away her growing fear. She knew firsthand what horrible things could befall her at the hands of her husband's enemies.

  "I and the others fear Garrick's wrath, if you were left with not enough men to protect you."

  She drew in a steadying breath, nodded and took her seat. She found her appetite was nonexistent, and after a time left the table and sought out the children and the game of hide-and-seek they were playing. She spent hours playing with them, shirking her duties within the keep, but keeping her mind focused on the laughter of the children to keep the insanity from her own head.

  Dusk was beginning to settle over the keep when the guard called down from the wall the men were returning. Ryann nearly dropped to her knees when the first person to ride through the gate was Garrick. She stood rooted to the spot, studying her husband. He appeared furious, she could see the rage that was so frightening to behold. She could feel it coming off him even across the courtyard. Then his eyes were on her, and suddenly he did not appear so frightening. She wanted to run to him, but held her ground, knowing he took great measures to be a hardened warrior among his men, even when it came to his wife. She could wait. She waited this long, just a little longer would not matter.

  Chapter 14

  Of all those gathered in the courtyard, his eyes immediately fell on Ryann. He had yearned for her since being departed in a way he could not understand. Never had he longed for anyone, and now he found himself lonely when she was not near. There was a small part of him that wondered if she had been a player in his abduction, but seeing her now that doubt fled. He saw her relief written plainly upon her face, and after her eyes surveyed him head to toe, her eyes were back on his, offering him a brilliant smile.

  As the other knights crowded into the courtyard behind him, he watched her eyes stray from his and her smile faltered. Immediately, she was looking back at him, as if he could tell her across the crowded courtyard why he had her guard in chains.

  It was a story he did not think he could share with her without the rage coming forth. Nimbly he slid from the horse, despite his aching muscles from his time in restraints as a prisoner, and then after the beating he gave to some of her guard. He hoped she would understand why he had to put them to death. Despite their unrelenting loyalty to her, they were his soldiers now, and therefore they were traitors. He had only one punishment for such an act. Death.

  Ryann hurried toward him, Christopher as always her shadow. He would begin by d
ispensing of him. He was the leader of all. He was not aware of his wife at his side, for he had eyes only for the enemy approaching. Drawing his sword he used his free hand to reach for Christopher's throat. He felt the rage unleashed as his fingers wrapped around it, ready to tear his life from him. With the momentum of his attack, he easily forced him backward, tripping him over his foot, and took him to the ground. A knee replaced his hand as he raised his sword high, ready to plunge it into the traitor's chest.

  "No, my lord," he heard Ryann cry out, and felt her warmth at his side, her puny hand pulling at his arm.

  "Ryann," he snapped in warning.

  "Please, at least tell me what he is guilty of."

  "He's a traitor," he bit out, turning on her, and his fury bade her shrink back. "His men are the ones who held me. As their leader, he is responsible for their actions."

  "He is innocent, I know he is," she insisted, crouching so she placed her body between Christopher and his sword.

  "Do not interfere," he snapped, trying to push her out of his way.

  "He only discovered the rest of the men were missing this very day." Ryann pulled and tugged until he was thrown off balance. He did not like one bit his actions being challenged, it did not set a good precedent for his men. What if they saw this as an opportunity to begin challenging him themselves?

  Shooting to his feet he turned his anger on his wife. "You will not interfere in this matter," he snarled, seizing her wrist and yanking her against him so he could look down on her.

  What he anticipated happening was cowing her into silence, but in reality such lust shot through his body as he felt her pressed against him, all his rage fled. Confusion settled over him because he had these men to kill, yet all his mind told him now was he needed to take his wife to their chamber, lay her out onto the bed, and drive himself into her.

  Standing on tip toe, her free hand came up to the back of his head, encouraging him to bend toward her. "Please my lord, spare them until I have a chance to understand what is happening here," she whispered.

  His grip tightened on her wrist, he knew painfully so. What did he care if she understood or not? Here his word was final, his punishments swift and decisive. Yet all it took was one plea from her to make him wish otherwise.