The Dark Lady

by Dawn Chandler

Peter’s heart seemed to lurch back to life and he lunged forward. “Vanessa, stop.”

  Van looked up into her husband’s wide eyes and wanted to collapse into his arms. It was not a feeling she had ever had before, but she did not dislike it.

  She had spent the night walking through the cold darkness, thinking of all the things she was, more importantly, everything she wasn’t. She was more confused and angry by the time she had arrived home than she had ever been. Looking up into his blue eyes, she was sure of three things: her love for him, her trust in him, and his trust in her.

  “Stop, do not hurt him. He was following my orders.” Peter held his hands out to her. “Please.” His voice sounded strange, tight.

  “What do you mean? Why?” She stared at him in total confusion. She was sure she had heard him wrong.

  “Let him up and I will tell you,” he said softly. “Do not hurt him.”

  She stared at him for a moment, feeling lost, and then looked down at Telpher.

  “I am sorry,” he whispered softly. His jaw moved slightly against the dagger and more blood oozed from beneath its tip.

  Without a word to him, she pulled it away. She stood, ignoring him completely as Telpher pulled himself out of the way. “Now, tell me.”

  “I was told you were betraying me and...”

  She sucked in a shocked breath that burned at her throat and seemed to shrivel her heart. “And you thought you would turn some of your men loose on me instead of just asking me?” So much for his trust, she thought. She took another shaky breath.

  “Vanessa, just give me the dagger before you hurt yourself with it. You could injure someone by not knowing how to use it.” His voice was patronizing, like he was speaking to a young child. A young stupid child.

  Her black eyes turned to slits as she stared at him. Anger pulsed through her veins, warming her like a fire in the bowels of the castle warms the walls. “How is it that you think I know nothing? Do you not even realize all that I have done? What do you think? I am to sit and do nothing but have your babies?”

  “Give me the dagger,” he said, holding his hand out.

  “Aye, my lord. You want it? Here.” Flipping the knife into the air, she caught it deftly by the blade. The cold shimmering metal was only in her fingers for half a heartbeat as she threw it at the wooden beam right beside his head.

  Telpher let out a tight yell. The blade stuck into the wall not an inch from the dumbfounded look on Peter’s face.

  Peter’s heart lurched into his throat, and he was sure it was going to come out as he let out a soft grunt of surprise. She had actually thrown it at him.

  “Thank God, you missed, my lady.” Telpher had jumped to his feet, rushing toward her, thinking to subdue her, just to have Peter wave him back.

  Peter stared at the jeweled hilt of the blade and felt his breath catch. Her throwing it at him no longer seemed important. How had she gotten it? It was the Dark Knight’s blade. Emeralds and rubies flared in the candlelight.

  It was unmistakably the gift he had given to the Dark Knight as reward for saving his life.

  Vanessa stalked toward Peter, her face red with anger. Most of the powder was gone. He could see her tanned face beneath the thin layer and in parts there was no powder at all. Some he was sure had been lost in the tussle with Telpher and some on the long walk home.

  She stopped long enough to pull the dagger from the wall. “I never miss. Next time it will be at your big stubborn skull instead of the wooden beam.” With that she walked back out the door into the cloudy morning, the dagger disappearing into her dress.

  Peter turned and looked at the smooth, straight entry hole in the wood. It was a small section of wood completely surrounded by stone.

  He jumped as Telpher’s voice sounded in his ear. “You think she really aimed for that? It does seem a little odd that the knife hit the only part of the wall it could stick in, especially after that toss.”

  “Aye.” He pushed the door open and went after her.

  He was afraid for her. Eolian had been in Junket the same time as she and the Dark Knight. If she was involved with them in some way, Eolian may just as well be after her. He had not mentioned his worries to Richard that day by the lake, but he had thought of little else since then. If she was in danger, he would do his best to protect her. She just had to tell him what was going on.

  He caught her on the way to the stables. Grabbing her arm, he spun her around. “Damn it. Stop and talk to me. Just where do you think you are going?”

  Vanessa yanked hard. She stumbled backwards as she pulled her arm free, barely catching herself before she fell. “Leaving, that is where I am going. Now move out of my way.” She tried to go around him toward the stables.

  He stepped in front of her. “You are going to talk to me. There are things I want to know about.”

  She glared at him and turned, stomping off toward the men getting ready to go to the training fields.

  Peter caught sight of all the men stopping to watch them, but ignored them. He needed answers and she was the only one to give them to him.

  “Are you all right?” Richard asked as she walked close to him.

  Before she could answer a frantic shout came from toward the castle. Peter turned. Gary ran toward them.

  “Lady Vanessa! Lady Vanessa! Thank goodness you are here.” Gary slid to a stop before her. “Have you seen Anna?”

  Worry seized Van’s mind and made her forget about Peter and his ploys to catch her in a betrayal. “Nay, I just got here. What has happened?” She placed her hand on his trembling shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze.

  Taking a deep breath, Gary started in a shaky voice. “Anna is always here in the morning to have breakfast with me, my lady.” He looked up and stopped, a look of hopeful anticipation crossing his face.

  Van turned to see Amy approaching, followed closely by Joseph and Devon. When Amy shook her head, he continued. “I had them look as well. When she did not come down for breakfast, I went to find her.”

  Van looked back at him and grasped his trembling hand.

  “Oh, Vanessa, she is all I have.” His voice was thick with unshed tears and a deep fear that trembled through his words.

  “We will find her, but you have to tell us everything.” Peter’s voice sounded calm as he stepped up to them, but his eyes betrayed his concern.

  “I went to her chambers and I found a mess.” Gary began. “It looked as if there was a battle in there. I found a torn piece of her night robe and blood on the bed. I am afraid someone has ra—” His voice broke into a soft sob as he could not continue.

  “If she is hurt or afraid, maybe I know where she is hiding.” Van looked at Amy. “Did you look there?”

  Amy looked confused for just a moment before realization set in, and then she gasped. “Nay, God, I did not even think to.”

  Van shook her head. Releasing Gary’s trembling hand, she began to walk to the high wall that separated the woods, and Anna’s secret place, from the castle grounds.

  Peter grasped her arm. “Wait, you cannot go by yourself. What if she is hurt? Will you carry her the entire way back? I will go.”

  Peter began to follow, Gary right on his heels. Van turned on them. “Nay, if what you think has happened, did happen—” Her heart slammed against her chest as she prayed that it had not. “—then do you think she wants men to barge in on her. I will go myself.”

  Peter did not fight when she pulled her arm free and began to walk once again. “And if she is hurt, can you get to her fast and get her back quickly, on your own?”

  “Nay.” She looked back at the great distance to the stables and thought of the arguments she was going to face to get there and shook her head. “Nay,” she repeated.

  She turned and began walking toward the back wall once more. She could see the open gate, left open more than likely by Anna as she had fled.

  It was almost a complete U-shaped path to get from where she stood to the gate and all the way back to
Anna’s secret hiding place. It would take too much time to go the long way.

  The fence was only about five foot high. She could go over it, but getting Anna back over it if she were hurt would be something else. Plus she needed to be fast. She only had one option.

  Peter watched her walk away, head high and determined. He was about to go after her, despite her objections when she placed two fingers into her mouth. The deafening whistle that issued forth stopped him in his tracks.

  He registered the answering scream of a horse from the stables and the crash of wood that could only have been the stall gate. Not looking back at the screams of the stable hands, he kept his eyes glued to the tall woman as she grasped the hole where he now knew her dagger was kept.

  Vanessa grasped the material and pulled. Peter heard the long tear as the skirt fell open completely on the side, baring her leg from thigh to ankle. During it all, she never broke her stride.

  Peter called out as her huge destrier thundered past him, screamed for her to watch out. Beast began to slow until Vanessa whistled again. He regained his speed, tearing straight for her. Peter’s breath caught in his throat as he knew he would not be able to save her.

  Vanessa reached out a long arm, gripping the coarse waving mane as the animal thundered past, and smoothly swung herself onto his massive back.

  Peter felt a jolt of fear as she wobbled slightly on the racing stallion, one creamy white leg glistening in the dim sunlight. Shadows played off the thick muscles as they rippled in her effort to stay on the unsaddled mount.

  The men all stood with their mouths agape as their Lady rode toward the wall. For once Peter did not feel a twinge of jealousy. He fully understood their awe.

  Vanessa leaned forward and ducked her head as if to avoid the wind. Her stallion rode straight for the wall. He did not slow or turn and then, to Peter’s horror, he was too close to change course.

  “She would not.” Peter did not even realize he had spoken aloud until he felt a small hand on his. He looked down to see Amy’s smile.

  “Milord, she would, but she will be all right.” She spoke with confidence.

  Peter wished he could be as sure, but he wasn’t.

  He thought his heart would stop as Vanessa did what he had feared she would. He held in a scream as the massive animal bundled its legs underneath it, taking the jump smoothly. Leaning forward, she seemed one with the animal.

  Peter held his breath as they disappeared behind the wall. It seemed forever that the two were out of sight.

  He had time to imagine her broken and bloody body lying beneath the horse, both dying.

  He released his breath in a relieved rush when he saw them, both horse and rider, safe and still moving fast.

  The fear that clogged his throat still remained as he watched them pounding toward the woods. It was in that moment of fear, those few seconds that seemed like eternity, that he realized he loved her. How had he not seen that before he wondered?

  He loved her, and she loved him. And as soon as she returned he would beat her senseless for terrifying him the way she had. Then he would hold her and love her and never let her out of his sight again.

  Van broke the tree line, sweat trickling through the powder on her face. She slid from Damien’s broad back before he had even come to a complete stop.

  “Easy, boy. Stay right here.” She spoke, to calm the animal, as well as to let Anna know she was there, not wanting to frighten her.

  “Anna, it’s only me. It’s Van. I am coming in, alone.” She stopped dead as she took in the terrified girl.

  Anger and a vicious blinding hatred awakened within her. Her breath whistled through her heaving chest and her whole body shook.

  Anna’s face was swollen and bruised, blood coming from her nose and lips. The soft white gown Amy had made for her was torn and streaked with blood. Her delicate feet enraged Van beyond words. They were bare and bleeding, stained green from her long run in the grass and thorns.

  “Vanessa, I am so sorry...” Heartbreaking tears broke the paralysis that had held Van. She ran to her, pulling her into her arms. Violent sobs wracked at the fragile child she held.

  “Do not say that. You did nothing wrong. You have nothing to be sorry for.” She buried her face in her hair, kissing her softly on the neck. Van pulled her head up and noticed powder streaked across the girl’s hair, but it did not register that it had come from her face.

  “I did. I tried to do what Gary told me to.” Her breath hitched as another string of sobs burst forth.

  “What did Gary tell you to do?” Van asked, confused as to what her brother had to do with any of this.

  “He said, if I was ever attacked, raped—” The word came out as a bare whisper. “I was to fight, but if I was going to be hurt, I was to stop fighting, just let them take me.” Shudders wracked her small frame. “He said my life was more important to him than my...my...”

  Van agreed with him, she would have told her the same thing. “Shhhh, I understand. Tell me what happened.”

  “I tried, but the more I tried not to fight, the more he would hit me. He became furious with me, said it was my fault it didn’t work, then he would hit me harder.” Anna’s sobs became almost deafening, her words barely understandable. “The more I tried to let him...then he, he made me fight him. Made it hurt until I couldn’t stand it. Then he, then...he...” She buried her face into Van’s chest and began to wail. “Don’t let Ryan hurt me again. He said he would be back.”

  Blood drained from Van’s face as she understood what had happened. The young girl was hard to understand through the sobs and the hiccups, but as she finished in a whisper, Van understood.

  Understood who had done this and why he had become more violent, instead of less, as she cooperated. The men may be on good behavior around Van, but she still heard things. Ryan liked fear. Some of the stories that went around also said that without the fear and the fighting, he could not get his member to stand firm. She had paid little mind to these rumors, but now she was sure they were true.

  A white hot fire was beginning to burn its way through her—the anger and confusion she had felt at her father’s home, Peter’s betrayal, and everything she had tried to be and tried not to be.

  Everything collided, turning to a raging thunderstorm inside her, and yet her voice was calm. “Easy, I will take you to Gary and I will take care of it. I never should have left you.”

  Her body had begun to take over, her mind awaiting the results. She had promised Anna’s brother to take care of her and she had failed.

  Standing before the cowering child, Van brushed her fingers through her thick black hair. Pulling it all into three sections she quickly braided it before tearing a strip of cloth from her already ruined dress. Folding the braid together until it was a thick, short braid, like the one she was used to wearing, she wrapped the cloth around it to keep it in place, out of her way.

  Van gathered Anna up into her arms, putting her arm underneath her trembling legs to carry her. She could feel the cold and congealed blood on the back of her gown. It stuck to her arm as she made her way to the fallen log where she had left Damien.

  Anna threw her arms around Van’s hot and sweaty neck and burrowed deep into her embrace. Her hot tears ran across Van’s neck and slid down her chest.

  The anger she’d harbored, the pain and the confusion Van had felt since her mother’s death fell upon her at once. The guilt, at allowing this child to be hurt, at all the ones she loved that she was lying to, consumed her. The terror she felt, when she thought of all those she had put in danger by just being here, combined together and buried her.

  She lost all conscious thought patterns as her swirling emotions gathered together into a black, encompassing rage. Van did not remember mounting Damien and was only vaguely aware of the small frame she protectively held against her chest.

  Holding both arms around the girl, she allowed the huge animal beneath her to gallop. His stride was smooth and she had no difficultie
s keeping her balance with her thighs.

  They went the long way, through the gate and back around. Her anger continued to boil over, spilling the hatred and rage into every thought and breath she had.

  Every man had gathered in the courtyard awaiting her return. The Dark Knight, released from all restraints, freed as she had never been free before, spotted Ryan Deumount in the center of the men.

  CHAPTER 23

  Van tightened her thighs against Damien’s heaving sides and urged him to a stop several feet away from the standing crowd of onlookers. The men stared, shifting back at forth and darting nervous glances at her.

  She nodded to Gary to come get his sister before she swung her leg over the neck of the panting horse. She slid to the ground with the frightened girl still in her steady arms. She sensed, rather than heard, the collective gasp as she dropped Anna gently to her bare feet, her blood covered arm sliding from beneath the young girl.

  “Easy, Damien,” she muttered as the animal’s ears quivered and his nostrils flared. Her voice came out in a calmness that did nothing to betray the rampaging anger that was racking her entire system.

  She steadied Anna against him and turned away.

  She held her head straight ahead and didn’t even look at Gary as he approached her. She kept her gait smooth and deliberate.

  Her mind contained only one thing, the death of Ryan Deumount. Her mind whirled with options on how to accomplish what needed to be done.

  She was in need of a weapon and knew that no one would willingly give one over to her. She watched the bright sunlight glitter off Gary’s sword as it swung from his hip as he hurried toward his sister.

  Gary’s eyes were distracted and hollow as he stared at Anna. Van grinned. His distraction would be all she needed.

  When Gary was directly across from her, she side stepped, her shoulder slamming into his. He fought for balance. She swiftly pulled the sword from his scabbard. Her gait increased and she strode quickly toward the men.

  She took in Gary’s shout behind her, but the words did not reach through the anger and guilt that swirled through her, clouding out everything like a dust storm. She saw the looks of astonished surprise on the men’s faces before her, but ignored them. Somewhere deep inside she knew she was making a mistake. Her conscious screamed at her from the depths of the Dark Knight, but this too she pushed away.