The Dark Lady

by Dawn Chandler

  Finally she had found a group of older boys. She had barraged them with insults and taunts until they had circled her. Now she trembled in anticipation. She knew she would lose, but they would not walk away from this unscathed. They would know she was one to be respected and she would get her frustration out at the same time.

  They closed in, closer and closer until she could feel their breath on her skin. Taking a shaky breath, she ignored her fear and prepared herself for the upcoming battle. Honor and dignity was all she needed to concentrate on as she fought.

  The boys attacked.

  The images of the boys blurred as fists connected. Time slowed as bodies collided together. Van growled deeply as she scrambled for purchase in the pile. She felt a bone crush underneath her fist as it drove into a nose. She heard a boy scream in agony as her knee drove into a crotch. Two boys pushed at her, driving her face into the dusty ground. She struggled and fought to get free. Blood flowed freely across her face, but whose and from where she did not know.

  Then the crushing weight and grunting bodies were gone from her. Jumping to her feet, Van was stunned to see Peter Lawston lecturing the boys on the duties of a page. You do not attack as a group. You do not attack defenseless boys.”

  Defenseless boy? Van puffed up her chest and took a shaky breath. Defenseless. Her innards twisted in pain as she fought to remain calm. This was the lord of the manor’s son. This was Peter Lawston, the Dragon Knight and the king’s champion. This was the man she secretly loved.

  The boys walked away with only a glance over their shoulder. They were beaten and bloody, but it was not good enough for Van.

  Now they believed that Van had needed help and they believed that, because of this man, this man who thought of her as defenseless. Van’s anger grew at what she saw as a transgression against her. How could Peter do this to her?

  Peter turned to her with a helpful, look-at-what-I-have-done smile.

  “Helpless,” Van whispered as she attacked. Peter grabbed for her. The helpful, happy smile turned to shock as Van connected with him.

  ***

  Amy touched her arm and Van lashed out barely missing her. Van shook her head and focused on the present.

  Fear clouded Amy’s face. She stood tensely, appearing ready to run if necessary. Guilt stung at Van and she winced. “I am sorry. I was lost in thought.”

  She waited until Amy smiled and relaxed before taking a step toward her. Amy had quickly become comfortable in her presence which boded well for Van, but she was still nervous about trusting her. It was the best course of action, though, and she would just have to pray that Amy would not betray her, either consciously or accidently.

  Van took a deep breath and grinned, hoping that her concerns were hidden from view. “Now, it is time to put your, and my, trust to the test. Can I trust you with my life, with my secrets?” Van reached for the young girl, lifting her veil to see her face. “Do you think I will hurt you? Do you trust me fully?” Van asked.

  Van stood steady beneath Amy’s penetrating gaze. She relaxed slightly as Amy smiled and nodded. “You have my loyalty and my trust, my lord.”

  “Good, then I guess I must give you the same. Come, help me get undressed.”

  Alarm showed in the blue eyes. Alarm, but not fear. “Okay.”

  No fight. Van took a deep breath and ignored the worry that raced through her veins. She had promised to take care of Amy, and she would. She would protect her with her life if need be.

  Back in the cottage she stood still as Amy began stripping off the gambeson that she had worn to the funeral. She struggled to keep the unease under control. Who was this young girl who so willingly put her trust in someone else? Van was not sure she could have done the same thing, not until that trust was earned. Not even if her mother had said to.

  Van focused on the wall before her as Amy gripped the bottom of her long, baggy black tunic. Amy grunted as she stretched to lift the thick material over her head and when she wobbled Van knew she must be on tiptoe. She closed her eyes as the material slipped across her face throwing her into darkness.

  Cool air caressed her bared arm and she flinched when Amy gasped and stepped away. Van held her breath self-consciously and waited for Amy to speak. When nothing came, she cautiously opened her eyes.

  Amy’s eyes were wide as she looked up at Van. Van looked from Amy’s face to her own body.

  She stood in a pair of long leather boots that stopped halfway up her thighs. Above those was a pair of close fitting tights that rode snug against her long legs and fit tightly against her flat pelvic area. Her tight undershirt did little to conceal the shape of her breasts even with the tight wrap below. She had never felt so vulnerable or so exposed.

  Dawning thought seemed to light Amy’s beautiful face. Her light brows arched. “You are a woman?” There was awe and disbelief in her soft whisper.

  Van shook her head, taking a deep breath and holding it until small flashes could be seen in front of her face before releasing it in a whoosh. “We have only—” Van stopped. She cleared her throat. The voice that had come out was that of the Dark Knight. A deep male voice she had spent all her life perfecting—a voice that would give her away faster than the scar on her face.

  Amy tilted her head and looked at her expectantly. Van groaned and started over, this time in a softer tone. It cracked gently. “We have only four days. I need you to show me how to be a woman.”

  Amy’s brows rose in question, or concern, over her task, Van was unsure which. Whichever it was Amy did not interrupt. Van took a deep breath. “I need you to stay by my side as much as possible. I have a bad feeling that the Dark Knight will show his head if I am provoked. I do not know how to be anything else because I have never been anything else. I do not think my new husband will like who I am.”

  Van pulled the dingy white undershirt over her head and allowed Amy to assist her with untwining the tight bindings that pressed down the breasts that Van had cursed since they had begun to sprout. She had always thought them a burden. Van stood patiently as Amy stared at her half-naked form.

  “How did I see you as a scary Knight? You are so shapely. You look very feminine.” Amy looked up at her, her voice still light with wonder and amazement. To Van she sounded as if she were a child who was finally allowed to stay up late enough to see the wondrously brilliant sunset.

  Van tensed and must have scowled because Amy’s smile fell away and she took a half step back. Those were words that would have resulted in the speaker’s death only days before. Van struggled to relax, but could not.

  “Van?” Amy asked anxiously.

  Van knew she was a woman now and she was just going to have to get used to it. Feminine was a good thing for a woman, but twenty years of training was hard to ignore. She could hear her mother’s voice, echoing in her mind telling her, to think like a boy. She could hear the voices of the boys telling her that she looked like a weak girl, and then she smiled as she remembered the blood that had sprayed from their broken noses.

  “It’s nothing,” Van said with a smile.

  Amy didn’t look as if she was convinced, but smiled as she stepped behind Van and unwound the thick leather strap from her hair. Van could feel her fingers deftly pulling apart the tangles made by her frantic ride to get to her mother’s side.

  No one had ever touched her hair and she could not decide if it was a feeling that she liked. The gentle tugs at the locks of hair as Amy untangled the mess sent small shivers down her spine. They were not totally unpleasant, but it was a strange feeling.

  Amy’s hands slid against Van’s shoulders and arms as she worked with her hair. She said in a distracted voice, “You are extremely muscular.”

  Van looked down at her arms and realized that they were well muscled, but they were not massive. She had never thought of herself as muscular. Her strength came not from size, but just from sheer determination and cunning. She’d only had the other knights and soldiers to compare herself to and she had always com
e up lacking.

  She had always worked harder than everyone else, wishing that she would grow as big as the men around her. Now her thoughts went in another direction. She was not massive as she had hoped to be, but neither was she petite or tiny. In her mind, no matter what Amy had said, she was not feminine.

  Breath shuddered through her as she strengthened her resolve. Being a woman and a wife should have come natural to her, but she had spent all her life as something she was not. She was unsure that she could become what she was born to be.

  A knock came at the door. Van quickly tugged her tunic over her head as Amy went to answer the door. She looked down at the shirt, now stretched against her unbound breasts.

  Amy screamed in what sounded like horror and Van’s head jerked up. It took her only a moment to pull her sword from its scabbard and tear through the small cottage. She fought a panic as images of Eolian’s men surrounding the cottage swarmed her thoughts. She did not believe that he had found her so quickly, but it was an image that refused to release its hold on her weary mind.

  She slid around the doorway of the room and came to a stumbling halt before the front door of the cottage. Verges, a very large and unearthly-looking man, stood holding Amy to his chest.

  Tension eased from her body as relief swept over her. He was her spy in Eolian’s army and he was her friend.

  Verges’ massive arms wrapped around Amy and a thick, dirty hand was held tight against her mouth. Amy’s eyes were wild and desperate as she kicked and struggled. A low chuckle came from beneath the large hood that covered Verges’s entire face. Her struggles went unnoticed by the massive man.

  “Verges, put her down.”

  When he released her without hesitation, Amy fled toward Van. She opened her arms without thought and Amy burrowed deeply into her chest.

  Van wrapped one arm distractedly around her and spoke quickly to Verges. “Come in before anyone sees you.”

  He slipped his wide shoulders through the door, having to turn slightly to accomplish it. “I saw the funeral.”

  Van knew that was his way of telling her he was sorry for her loss. “I was not going to knock, but I saw you through the window, with your binding off and your hair down.”

  Van sucked in a breath. She had no concerns of Verges seeing her. He knew all her secrets, from the fact that she was a woman to the identity and location of all her mistresses. No, she had no concerns about him, but she had been careless. If it had not been Verges, if it had been one of her enemies that had seen her undress all would have been lost.

  Van’s concerns slipped from her mind as Amy’s tiny squeak of a voice spat out in outrage. “You saw her almost naked? You were looking through the window?” She spoke with conviction, but would not look directly at him.

  “Amy, easy. This is a good friend of mine.” Van grinned when he shifted uncomfortably at her statement. He had told her once that she was the only one who would consider him a friend. “Verges, this is Amy Devant.”

  She turned to Amy with a smile and let her arm drop away. “Amy, will you get us all something to drink?” Turning back to Verges, she smiled. “Are you hungry?” At his nod she instructed Amy to get something to eat as well.

  Amy gave Van a look of relieved gratitude and nearly fled from the room. Van’s smile fell away. She nodded to the long couch sitting before the fireplace. “Please sit with me.”

  Van took a seat on the couch and Verges took the chair that sat beside it. He turned the chair to face the couch and Van.

  With a quick look toward the kitchen area, she sighed. Verges shifted to get more comfortable. She looked at his shadowed face. He looked at her expectantly as if he knew she wanted to talk.

  “You saw the men leaving without me?” She already knew the answer.

  He nodded.

  She shifted uncomfortably on the soft couch. She wanted to explain to him her situation, but she had come to realize that she did not fully know it. She did not know where she was going or who she was going to be with. What she did know was that her lack of knowledge angered her.

  She took a deep breath, turned to face him, and forced the words out. “I am to be married. I do not know who my betrothed is or where I am going.” Her eyes narrowed and she scowled. She hated that she was not consulted on this, that she had had no say in who or when or even if she would marry.

  She growled thickly and kicked at the small table before the couch. It shivered dangerously and she waited for it to collapse. It did not.

  She looked at him and forced herself to relax.

  He just smiled calmly.

  “You know who my father is. I will be there in a week. I will go there first, that is all I know.” She shifted her weight and cracked her neck for what seemed like the hundredth time since she had arrived at her mother’s home. “Go there and find out what you can. I am sure people there know of the arrangements.”

  Even if I don’t, she thought bitterly and kicked at the table once more. “I need you to take some money to the girls.”

  He nodded once again.

  She heard Amy coming in from the kitchen and shook her head. “I need a day maid and someone to help me. Amy has agreed to do that for me.”

  Verges shook his head and allowed the hood to fall across his face as Amy walked into the room with three plates of food balanced on a tray.

  She joined Van on the couch, sitting almost on top of her as she drew away from Verges, almost spilling the food as she did so. Van felt a trembling shudder run through Amy’s small frame. Van took the tray from her shaking hands and laid it upon the table. “Easy, he will not hurt you.”

  Amy looked at her as if she was crazy. “How do you know? How do you know him?”

  Van could barely hear her small, scared whisper. She grinned even though irritation swam through her veins at being questioned. She was accustomed to telling people what to do and having them do it. “I know.” She took one of the food laden plates and handed it to Verges without taking her eyes off Amy. “Because, he takes care of my girls for me when I cannot.”

  “Your girls?” Amy’s attention was finally off of Verges as her head spun toward Van, a look of shock on her face. Van, having no intention of explaining her mistresses to Amy, just shook her head.

  As the Dark Knight she had rescued many women all over the country and had taken responsibility for them. It was easiest just to say they were the property of the Dark Knight, that they were his mistresses and their children his. It protected them.

  “Aye, my girls.” Van grinned at Verges and he chuckled.

  Amy cringed and glanced at him before looking back at Van.

  “He would never hurt one close to me, even if he might have the urge.” She knew that he had had those urges before. Some of the women she had rescued had been a handful. They had done nothing drastic of course, but enough to annoy the big Verges. He had always held his temper, allowing Van to dish out whatever lectures or punishment was required.

  She smiled down at Amy and gently handed her a plate of food before taking the last one for herself. “And I met Verges three years ago.”

  Without looking up, the big man interrupted her. “The Dark Knight saved my life. We were crossing a river that was swollen and flooded with a storm. Trees were uprooted and one hit my horse. I was left for dead by the men I was with. Van came along and pulled me from the river.”

  “You do not seem surprised that she is a woman.” Amy relaxed and pulled slightly away from Van.

  Van was proud of her bravery as she questioned Verges and looked at him while she did. She was once again impressed by her ability to trust in the word of someone. Her mother told her that the Dark Knight was trustworthy and she trusted her. Van told her that Verges was trustworthy and, from body language at least, it appeared that Amy was taking Van at her word.

  “I am not surprised.” He shifted in his seat to face Amy better. The hood fluttered around his face, but revealed nothing. His voice thickened. “While she was bringing me
to shore, a large tree hit her. She was knocked unconscious and luckily I was where I could touch, since I cannot swim.”

  His voice took on an edge of disbelief as he continued. “She had seen me as the enemy and still knowing that, she had saved my life.” He chuckled again.

  Amy tensed, but did not retreat away from him.

  “I could not let her die. I made a fire and had to get her out of her wet clothes.” He looked up at Amy, allowing the hood to fall away and his face to show in the flickering glow of the lamps that burned brightly in the room. “I have given her my life, in return for all she has done for me.”

  Van felt Amy tighten in fear at the distorted face before her, not a pleasant sight at its best, but she did not retreat away from him. She just smiled, a sweet light shading her face. Verges looked surprised and then he flashed a gruesome smile. “I think you have made a good choice, my lord.”

  “I do as well.”

  Verges rose to his feet. Gesturing for Amy to remain on the couch, Van followed him to the door.

  He turned and looked at her with a soft smile.

  “Find me.” The two words sounded to her like a desperate plea and she supposed they were. He was her only link to her past and the only one who could help her if things went badly.

  She watched him disappear into the darkness and told herself that becoming the woman she was supposed to be would be easy. She smiled and believed it.

  ***

  The next few days were spent trying to make Van into Vanessa. Van hated everything that women were supposed to be. She despised the cumbersome dresses women were supposed to wear and she was beginning to resent Amy for constantly telling her to be more malleable, more docile.