by Jayna Vixen
Ryder had looked into the girl’s history extensively and had learned that her parents had died when she was hardly more than a child. Her mother had perished from a bout of the fever when the girl was just a babe. Ryder knew how hard it was to grow up without a mother. He assumed things were certainly worse for a young girl to lack a female parent. Perhaps the girl had been allowed to run about, acting the tomboy. Whatever the case, she was of marriageable age, and Blackhawk desired her lands. Certainly, the girl’s mother had been a renowned beauty, but rumors about Seacliff’s daughter had less to do with her appearance and more to do with her stubborn nature.
Ryder’s men had glimpsed the young mistress of Seacliff riding in her orchards, and had confirmed that she didn’t seem to be much to look at. In fact, until closer inspection, they had thought the small figure they had seen riding at breakneck speed across the land was a young stable boy. Even if her appearance left something to be desired, the girl’s home was a veritable stronghold, situated upon a high bluff overlooking the sea. The keep boasted panoramic views of the mountains and valley. A well-traveled trading route bordered the backwoods. Any man would covet a union just to have access to such valuable lands.
Ryder had been surprised that the girl was not already promised to another, more influential man. But, according to Blackhawk, a union between Blackhawk and Seacliff had been forged just before the Lord of Seacliff had been killed in a hunting accident several years ago. Blackhawk had the paperwork to prove his claim, and he had every right to collect what was due him.
The girl was to wed Blackhawk’s eldest son, and King Devon supported this union, probably because Devon aimed to strip Blackhawk of his lands and title once he had enough evidence to prove that the man was unsavory. If Devon helped Blackhawk secure his bride, Blackhawk might believe he had Devon’s support, and he might just let his guard down. So, the girl was likely to be caught in the crossfire, however this was often the plight of high-status, unwed females who had no protectors.
Ryder sighed as he waited at the seedy inn. The girl’s predicament was none of his concern. He would complete the task as his king had delegated it to him. He was no babysitter, and he certainly did not go about collecting errant brides. But, Ryder had gotten himself into a bit of trouble a few years back, and getting out of it had required that he return Devon’s favor when he called it in. Just this one little transaction, and he would no longer be in the king’s debt.
Two men approached his table, and Ryder’s hand went silently to his dagger. One man was quite large, but there was something rather off about his demeanor. The shorter man cleared his throat.
“You be Lord Ryder, then?”
Ryder drew himself up to his full height, feeling a familiar satisfaction as the man shrank back. He dwarfed the first man, but was surprised that the larger man stood a few inches taller than he did. Ryder was quite tall, and well-muscled. It was rare that another man could meet him eye to eye. Too, Ryder had found that his direct, assessing gaze caused the few that did stare at him with challenge to back down swiftly. As he assessed the larger man, he could see that there was definitely something strange about him. He had an almost child-like grin on his face. He moved clumsily, bumping into the table, and nearly setting it on its side.
Ryder steadied the table and motioned for the two men to sit. These were two of Blackhawk’s men, sent to accompany him to the girl’s keep. Looking at the two unwashed cretins, Ryder was reminded again why he always worked alone. He would have to establish some ground rules. He alone would coordinate the retrieval and delivery of the girl to Blackhawk’s estate. The other two would serve as lookout and backup only.
The shorter man, Lukas, did not appear happy with Ryder’s plan, but he knew better than to argue with a man who was feared by most. The Mercenary of Moreland’s reputation certainly preceded him. The larger man, who was called Milos, nodded happily at the conversation, his eyes drifting frequently to the large breasts of the serving girl who waited on them. Ryder rolled his eyes. This would be a grueling assignment indeed.
At long last, Ryder told the two men that he would meet them at the dawn’s first light, by the stable. Perhaps they would not show, and he could claim they had simply been too far gone with drink to assist him. He could not wait to rid himself of their presence. It would do him good to collect and deliver the girl to her betrothed, and be done with the whole blasted deal. Ignoring the seductive glances that came his way from several serving girls and female patrons in the bar, Ryder retired to his chamber, alone.
***
Johanna couldn’t sleep. Every time she closed her eyes, frightening images assaulted her. The men would come for her again, she knew. Shivering, she tried unsuccessfully to block out the memories. She could still feel their grimy hands on her, pulling at her clothes. Foul hot breath in her face, and a low mean voice whispering disgusting things in her ear…
Muffling a screech, Johanna leapt from her bed and headed to the window seat, which had become the only place she was able to drift into a fitful rest. Something about sitting upright, and keeping a candle burning throughout the night, seemed more secure than lying prone and vulnerable in her bed, as she had been a fortnight ago. The creaky floorboards roused her maid, Lisel, who had taken to sleeping in Johanna’s chamber to make her feel safer, and also to shake Johanna awake when she suffered another one of her nightmares.
“Another bad one?” Lisel asked softly.
“Nay, friend.” Johanna whispered. “I am not tired. I will just sit here by the window and read for a bit.”
Lisel knew the truth. The poor girl was exhausted. But, night after night of terrified screams that had awakened half the castle illustrated that Johanna had not forgotten the terror of that night, although she might claim to be just fine. Lisel had known Johanna since she was just a babe, and she had never seen the girl in such a state. Her normally rosy cheeks were pale, and her eyes lacked the sparkle they usually had. But, Johanna was strong. She would get herself out of this mess, she would! Yes, Johanna could take care of herself; Rolf had seen to that!
The burly overseer was quite handsome, Lisel decided. He was a good man, too. He had taught Johanna to defend herself from a young age. Having no mother that she remembered, Johanna had idolized her father, a warrior in his own right. As a child, she had made a sword from two sticks and had run about, pretending to fight. Rolf, noticing her natural skill, had begun to teach her, with the lord’s permission.
She was an apt pupil, and had proven herself an excellent horsewoman as well. It was a good thing Johanna had learned to defend herself. She had fought off her kidnappers long enough for Rolf to step in and give each of them a good beating of his own before sending them on their way. There was just no way the lord would have promised his only daughter to a stranger, without her consent!
Lisel sighed in the dark, watching the girl fight sleep. Perhaps a good draught would relax her. It would do no good if Johanna became ill. Lisel snuggled under the covers on her small trundle. She would speak to Rolf in the morning about procuring something to help her mistress rest.
***
Things had not gone according to Ryder’s plan. In fact, things had fallen apart rather quickly once they had accessed the castle. He shook his head, knowing that he should have trusted his instinct to leave Blackhawk’s henchmen back at the inn. They had camped in the backwoods of Seacliff. In the dead of night, the three men had gained entrance to the keep through a secret door that King Devon had known about. Seacliff had once been a keep that housed the royal family, long ago. Knowing the original architect afforded Devon a lot of useful information.
Without that knowledge, the keep was impenetrable, bordered as it was on one side by a sheer cliff leading to the sea, and surrounded by a very high stone wall. The stones were placed so tightly that there seemed no place to gain a foothold to scale it. But, no sooner did Ryder mentally congratulate himself on the ease with which they had achieved entry, the big oaf, Milos, had tripped
and knocked over a pile of wood, alerting the guards and the large overseer.
Ryder was surprised at the small number of guards protecting the keep. He assumed that the security of the building itself made a large army of guards unnecessary…in the past. The overseer had fought valiantly, but in the end, he was no match for Ryder. He stopped Milos from delivering a fatal blow to the red-haired man, sensing that he was of good heart. The man tried to protest, and Ryder could tell he was as protective of the girl as he would be of his own daughter.
Ryder trussed the man up good, and dispatched the three other guards quickly, knocking them senseless, and binding their hands and feet. He almost felt sorry for the dedicated group of men who guarded Seacliff. The men had just been doing their duty, as they were sworn to protect the girl, Johanna. Ryder would do no killing on Blackhawk’s behalf.
He took in the overseer’s angry, incredulous face and then saw his expression go from disbelief to abject fear. Ryder followed his gaze. He looked to the north tower, where a candle had burned most of the night through. While Ryder had been occupied cleaning up the mess the other two had created, the two henchmen had nearly fallen over themselves in their haste to get to the girl first, no doubt wanting to curry Blackhawk’s favor.
Sighing, Ryder checked the guards’ restraints, and then raced up the stairs, two at a time. It would do no good to have the girl injured. Blackhawk had given strict orders that she be untouched, but Ryder knew that bad things could happen in the heat of the moment. He expected that they would catch the girl off guard, and that she would be frightened and perhaps more cowed than she had been on the previous attempt to take her. Ryder had just reached the top of the stairs, when a shrill scream issued from the farthest chamber in the hall.
Johanna shivered in the darkness, clad only in a thin muslin gown. She had been dozing fitfully in her window seat when the alarm had sounded. Raiders! Lisel was already opening the heavy wardrobe door, and Johanna had flown inside, finding the small lever behind her riding cloak, and slipping into the hiding space in the wall. As she hid in the small alcove behind her wardrobe, she struggled to keep her teeth from chattering. One small sound could alert them to her whereabouts.
Suddenly, she heard the door to her chamber fly open. Through a crack in the wall, she could clearly see her maidservant, Lisel, who was no bigger than a mite, being hauled to the center of the room by a man so tall she could not see his face because he rose higher than the fissure permitted her to see. Lisel’s feet dangled six inches from the ground.
“I’ll ask you again, where is she?” A raspy male voice, coming from behind the behemoth who held Lisel, demanded that the maid reveal her mistress’s whereabouts.
Milos grasped the young maid by her shoulders. By virtue of his sheer size, he was intimidating to most grown men, which was surely why the young maid shook with fear.
“Pretty!” The larger man said, licking his lips as he pulled the serving girl up by her arms.
“She’s not here, I say!” Lisel insisted. “Mi’lady is far gone…you will never catch her!”
“Perhaps we aren’t being persuasive enough,” the second man said.
Johanna heard the unmistakable hiss of a whip being pulled from the man’s boot. He raised it to strike poor Lisel, who squeaked in fear.
Johanna could bear no more. She sprang from her hiding place, startling the two men. They wore dark cloaks and hoods, but she was certain they meant to deliver her to this Blackhawk character. Johanna quickly assessed the situation. The larger man looked slow and cumbersome. She could easily outmaneuver him. The smaller man was cause for alarm; he was swarthy and had a mean glint in his eye. But, although she and Lisel were smaller and female, two against two were odds she thought she could beat, if luck were on her side. After all, she had done it before. She just needed to hold them off until Rolf arrived with reinforcements.
To Johanna’s surprise, her chamber door flew back on its hinges, slamming into the wall behind it, and a third man burst into the chamber. Johanna’s face fell. Now, there seemed no escape. The third man was also quite tall, and he moved with the easy grace of a large feline. The commotion startled the other big man, and he looked back and forth from Johanna to Lisel, seeming confused.
Johanna wasted no time. Leaping in front of her maid, she grabbed the whip straight out of the shorter man’s hands and faced the giant who held her maid by her wrists.
“How dare you?! Let her go this instant!” She brandished the whip and tried to appear menacing, unaware that her thin gown left very little to the imagination.
“Mi’lady no!” Lisel gasped. “Please….run!”
“Milos! Grab her!”
The big oaf dropped Lisel to the floor like a sack of grain, and took a step toward Johanna, who stood her ground defiantly. Her mind spun. She could sidestep the brute, and get a good slice into the smallest of the three, perhaps, but then she would still be left to deal with this third man, and he seemed the most dangerous. Where in god’s name was Rolf?!
The third man spoke then, and his voice was deadly calm.
“Milos. Halt.”
The most recent intruder had not moved a muscle. Instead, he stood staring at her, a hint of amusement in his icy blue eyes. Well, he had another thing coming. She snapped the whip against the floor with practiced ease.
“Get out of my chamber immediately you…you…whoreson!” Facing the third man, Johanna spat out the most insulting term she could muster, as adrenaline coursed through her veins. She tossed her long auburn hair out of her face.
Now the third man broke into a wide grin. In fact, he seemed downright amused by her display. Johanna felt hot anger bubbling up in her blood. The whip sang through the air like a striking snake, laying open his cheek.
Ryder blinked, and then his grin slowly disappeared. He put his hand to his cheek and felt his blood dripping. His eyes narrowed. While her beauty far surpassed the descriptions he had heard, the lord’s daughter was no simpering cowering female.
“You will most certainly regret that.”
Ryder reached for her and she snapped the whip again. He disarmed her easily. In three short strides, he had her backed against the wall. She pulled back to strike him, but he grabbed her wrists swiftly, and pinned them to her sides, feeling an unexpected pang of guilt as she squeaked in pain. Then, he tossed the struggling girl over his shoulder, and strode unchallenged out of the castle, the two other louts following closely behind him.
Johanna pummeled the man’s back with blows, but soon found that her struggling was futile. All of her resistance did nothing but sap her energy. She must remain strong and alert! Johanna could hear Lisel’s traumatized screams echo down the stairs after her. At least Lisel had not been hurt, Johanna thought miserably. But what of Rolf? Only death would have stopped the kindly overseer from coming to her aid. Fighting the bile that rose in her throat, and the tears that pricked her eyes, Johanna forced herself to go limp. She would play possum until she was able to escape.
***
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