by Arms, Angie
In the end the experienced knight’s skills couldn’t withstand Kennet’s and the boy stood over him his wooden blade pressed to the man’s throat as Damien lay on the ground.
“Yield Sir Damien,” the boy ordered triumphantly.
With a roar Damien jumped up, grabbed the boy and tossed him in the air making him squeal. The knight spun the kid around then set the boy on his feet who giggled as he took a couple wobbly missteps. Once the boy got his balance he charged Damien in what appeared a last ditch effort at victory, which Damien gave him.
He had to wonder at himself. No one had ever relinquished a victory for him when he was a kid. No knight ever spared a moment to spar with him with a wooden sword. As a matter of fact he didn’t dare ask lest he find it laid up against the side of his head for proposing something as ludicrous as to waste a grownups time.
Lying on his back he watched the gleeful swings of Kennet’s wooden sword above him and a level of peace came over him for the first time.
“Mamma!” Kennet called bounding away. “I have beaten Sir Damien,” the boy said proudly.
Damien sat up and watched Lady Kerri walk toward him with her children. Waverly clung to her dress, the same awful brown thing from last night while Kennet whirled around her brandishing his sword.
Reaching his side Keri nearly knocked Waverly over as the girl came to an abrupt halt to watch Edwin spar with Cyrille’s squire Devlin.
“Good morning to you Sir Damien,” she said offering him a slight bow, caught in the confusion of one recently stripped of a higher status than a mere knight, before plopping herself down on the grass beside him. What lady behaved as this one, he wondered as she grinned at her daughter who still stood, her hands clasped together riveted on the two boys a short distance away.
“What will become of her?” Keri asked urgently her voice so low pitched it took a moment for her question to register.
“Richard will find you a new husband and when Waverly comes of age he will find her one as well.”
She looked up at him with concern etched plainly across her brow. “Like my marriage arranged with Bryson?” In her eyes Damien could see the girl who had lived one of the worst such an experience could bring. The first time he took her, had he been the first one, had he been gentle? Sympathy filled him for the woman who sat in the grass beside him.
How normal the moment seemed. Keri beside him, close enough to touch, and a little girl with young eyes filled with love nearby. The boy was just a few steps down the little knoll mimicking the movements of two of the knights. Was this what a family felt like?
“Riders approach,” one of his men yelled from the tower.
Just like that the moment was over. “Take the children inside,” he told Lady Keri then dismissed them.
“Prepare to lower the gate!” he yelled as he moved toward the keep’s walls to prepare them for battle. Damien did not know who approached but he knew in this land of rebels whoever rode to his gate was his enemy.
Damien rushed through the gates, his knights who were just sparring and laughing a moment before were now deadly serious and ready for battle. He ran up the stone steps, taking two at a time. Reaching the top he hurried to the small group of men that looked out over the valley. The riders came on, half a dozen. They came at a fast clip one man rode out in front, leading them. The men were ordered to the walls and the castle was ready to be defended long before the riders arrived.
“Who goes there?” Damien yelled down as they drew rein outside the gate.
“Liam Donalds,” the man shouted back. He rode a fine steed that told Damien this man was no common peasant. He rode under no banner which told him this man had no loyalties.
“What business do you have here?” Damien asked.
“We are but travelers looking for some food and perhaps a warm place to sleep for the night.”
In the man’s voice he heard derision.
“Open the gates,” Damien called to the men below in the gatehouse. He did not believe for one moment these men were mere travelers seeking succor.
“They are not just travelers,” Cyrille stated as if Damien would have missed it.
“Do you forget so soon sometimes it is better the devil you know than the devil you do not. Keep the men on watch until they leave,” Damien ordered before turning to greet the uninvited guests.
On first sight Damien didn’t like Liam. The lank man had already dismounted and was looking about himself and he knew instantly the man was taking measure of the wall’s defenses.
“Mister Donalds,” Damien said his voice anything but welcoming.
“To whom do I owe the pleasure?” the man before him asked. His voice held a note of contempt as if he tried not tipping his hand and letting his true nature show.
“I am Sir Damien Le Forte, here to secure King Richard’s property.” He stood his feet slightly apart with his shoulders squared and head high as he tried to not openly glare at this man before him. His hands he had clasped in front of him, only inches from his sword.
The man nodded, speechlessly as he studied him with a scowl.
“Leave your weapons with my man Cyrille,” Damien said as his brother stepped forward in his gray hood as he too stood straight and tall. Damien held an impassive face at the stranger’s nervous reaction to his brother. But felt the familiar anger at the reaction.
“That is no problem,” Liam said the smile on his face more a sneer. “We are here to cause no problems.” The man handed his sword to Cyrille, the craftsmanship poor but deadly all the same. “Hand them over boys, it’s a small price to pay for some hot food,” he said cheerfully. The other men complied but he took note of their cold gazes that contradicted their leader’s words.
Afraid his men might miss something key in this man’s behavior or actions Damien led the visitors to the stable and sent word to the kitchens to begin the preparations for the evening meal. A job his wife would one day have if he was lucky enough have a home such as this. His mind moved to thoughts of Keri and he found himself scowling. The men lingered in the stable while Damien stood to the side, they didn’t speak to one another but their hesitancy to be on their way led him to believe they had much to discuss amongst themselves. Finished seeing to their horses they went back out to the courtyard. They studied the wall, the gate and the corners of the keep as they walked. These men may have had no plans to cause trouble on this visit but they did have plans for it.
All the way into the hall their eyes searched their surroundings. Once inside Damien directed Liam’s companions to a nearby table and invited Liam onto the dais. He never noticed an etiquette where that was concerned, fighting had been his concentration. As he took his seat he spotted Roland and Landry at the table with the other visitors. In the shadows he saw Cyrille and knew his brother watched everything.
They drank, Liam sipped at his and Damien took that as a sign of a man on guard, one who had secrets he did not want to let out. Each time Damien mentioned the king Liam would scowl, a subtle scowl, but a scowl nonetheless. The visitors looked to be growing impatient, their eyes kept roaming the room then landing on Liam as if he could hurry his conversation and they could be out of the hall, out from under the watchful eyes of their hosts.
“I need you,” Cyrille whispered, materializing from the shadows behind him to whisper at his shoulder.
Damien followed his brother to the courtyard, the evening was waning and the light of the low sun sat the walls ablaze. Cyrille turned quickly, “Lady Keri and her children can’t be found.”
Damien had anticipated a number of things but that announcement had not been one of them.
“What do you mean they can’t be found?” he asked feeling a thundering begin behind his temples.
“No one has seen her since the strangers arrived.”
“What does her maid have to say about this?” Damien demanded hoping his brother hadn’t missed that important step in the search.
“She hasn’t seen any of them since
they were with you earlier.” By the end of the explanation Cyrille’s voice had dwindled to its tired rasp.
“Damn her hide!” he exploded and his quick strides carried him toward the stables.
“What’s happening Damien?” Cyrille asked struggling to keep stride with him despite the limp that seemed worse this evening.
“The lady Keri has flown,” he spat the words out in disgust. “I’m going after her. Keep a close watch on our visitors. Send Edwin to me and the blacksmith,” Damien said hurrying into the stable. Within a few minutes Edwin arrived and saddled his own horse and a spare. By the time Damien finished preparing Phantom for travel the blacksmith had arrived. Damien instructed him in the making of a special shackle and chain to be fastened securely to the wall in his chamber.
Damien and his squire rode out shortly before dusk a third horse in tow. It took half the night to find the woman and her two children. He was surprised they had made it as far as they had on foot. Without her children he suspected his little warrior would have eluded him altogether.
~ ~ ~ ~
The night was a chilly one. She wished she had had time to prepare for the journey but she had not. That’s why she leaned uncomfortably against a tree, holding her children to warm them. The campfire helped but not as much as a blanket in a nice warm bed. She hadn’t planned to flee, not after her experience in the dungeon and Damien’s kindness in letting her see her children. But for Waverly she had to. She couldn’t leave it up to Richard to make a good marriage for her daughter. She would rather raise her children in poverty than risk Waverly being married to a man like Bryson.
The sound startled her but she didn’t have enough time to get to her feet before a beast hurtled out of the bush. Her children clung to her as she looked up into the furious face of The-man-on-the-gray-horse.
He stared down at her as Edwin dismounted and came toward them. Every instinct told her to fight but she knew it would be pointless. Edwin spoke sweetly to both children and sat them on a third horse. All the while she could only stand there like some half whit staring up at the man who glared back.
“I declare these two children property of the crown,” Damien advised in a clear voice with enough anger tingeing it she dared not argue or move. “Take them back,” he ordered his squire.
He was going to kill her now. She should just be thankful he had not done so in front of her children.
“If you take them again without my permission I will kill you for your crime against the crown. If you leave without them I will kill them,” he declared still atop the gray horse. Just as undefeatable as the first day she saw him leading his men.
“You will not kill children,” she couldn’t help but remind him.
Damien leaned forward, resting his elbows on the front of his saddle. “I have men in my ranks who would pay to have the honor of killing your young children,” his voice held a great deal of disdain. He straightened a sneer crossing his face, “Do you know what they would do to a beautiful young thing like Waverly?”
Keri felt her knees turn weak. It was all she could do to remain standing as the man dismounted. His movements were graceful as if he were born to the saddle. His steps were fluid and purposeful as he advanced to her. Was it her imagination or did he seem much larger than he had this morning? He stood before her studying her and she suddenly felt far more uncomfortable with him doing it than she ever did when her husband had. She as much felt as saw his eyes travel every inch of her. His eyes sparked and grew dark with the anger he held barely in check. She feared what would become of her if that control snapped. His eyes came back to hers and a chill passed through her. It was as if he felt her reaction and his face hardened. His head cocked sideways.
His faced turned to finely chiseled granite and it gave away nothing of what he was thinking. His cold, cold gray eyes reflected the light of the fire and she felt as if she were standing before a demon sent straight from hell. All this had to be God’s punishment. He was displeased at her for taking the sacred vow to love, honor and obey her husband when she had done none of it.
He grabbed a fistful of her dress and yanked her forward. The fabric tore and a smirk crossed his face as he yanked it from her body.
Why did she even try? She wondered fleetingly as she stood naked against him. This man was a different caliber than her husband had been. Damien didn’t stand there drooling over her breasts, he had ample opportunity to have her but he never even touched her. Even now he stood with her body touching him but he only stared at her face.
What was wrong with this man? He was a man and she knew she was far from ugly. She felt her brows snap together her anger somehow inexplicably peeked because this man did not touch her. What’s the matter with me, she wondered. Why was she wishing rape on herself? You can’t rape the willing, she thought and was mortified and knew that was the truth of it. She wanted to know what it would feel like to be able to wrap her arms around him as he took her. It was a desire she never had for until this moment she did not know what desire was. She had never desired her husband, the only desire she could remember was the desire for him to stop looking at her, to stop touching her.
With an unexpected shove Keri stumbled backward and lost her balance. She fell flat on her back, the stones and twigs biting into her flesh. Was it happening now? She could think of numerous other places the moment could be better enjoyed. He was on top of her. Didn’t he have to at least remove his mail she wondered? Then he grabbed her by the ankle and yanked her borrowed sandals off before hurling them in the fire. They weren’t much for shoe ware especially for someone on the run. But she had taken flight on the spur of the moment and not only was she exhausted and chilled to the bone, the sandals had rubbed the top of her feet raw and made the rest of her feet balls of aching agony.
Just as quickly as he knocked her to the ground Damien stood from her and backed away. In a flash he remounted his gray horse before she could gain her feet.
“Since you thwart my authority as a knight in his majesty’s service I take you as my prisoner. You are subject solely to me and as a prisoner you will only be allowed those things you earn.”
“Isn’t that a slave,” she asked defiantly forgetting until she crossed her arms over her naked chest that she was without a stitch of clothing on. She wasn’t sure if she pulled off the look of an infuriated lady of noble birth but she tried with all her will.
“Slave, prisoner, at this point for you it does not matter,” he declared and his voice said plainly he was losing interest in the subject.
“You can’t do this,” she stated.
Damien smiled, that irksome smirk, and leaned forward in the saddle. “What are you going to do about it?”
She bolted. She wasn’t sure why she bolted she knew she had nowhere to go. Then that blasted horse was there cutting off her escape route. She darted to the side but again the animal was moved to block her with a laugh coming from the man on his back. Rising to what she hoped to be a regal stance she glared at him.
“As much as I’m enjoying the bounce of your breasts and the glimpse between your legs I grow weary of this game.”
Keri’s mouth fell open in outrage but clamped it closed again when Damien arched a brow. “Walk, that way,” he directed with a wave in the direction they had all come from.
Furious Keri started walking, her pace brisk and for a time she did not feel the twigs and stones cutting into her feet. But only for a time. She would be damned before she asked Damien to let her ride. She walked throughout the night, her pride kept her going long after her feet didn’t want to. She stumbled into the courtyard after the dawn of a new morning. Anyone within sight stopped and stared at the filthy naked woman walking before the man that for the time being was as good as their lord.
Keri didn’t know how she managed to stay on her feet. They were raw and bloody and pain throbbed through them, making each moment excruciating. She managed to stay on them she thought proudly straightening to sneer at him before it change
d to a glare as the man dismounted before her. One of the stable boys came forward and took his horse.
Damien came to stand before her and his gaze remained locked on hers. She could feel herself shaking, she did not know if it was from the pain, the cold night, or her exhaustion but she couldn’t stop the tremors. Then Damien smirked, and had she the strength she would have smacked it off his face. He pulled his cloak from his shoulders and draped it over hers.
“Sir Damien,” a voice said from behind her. “I see why you failed to break your fast with us this morning.” She heard a note of contempt in the man’s familiar voice.
Keri took an involuntary step closer to Damien.
“Perhaps I may be leaving just a tad too early,” the man declared. No, no, no, her mind pleaded as she braced herself.
“You are leaving in just the appropriate amount of time,” Damien said curtly. “Now if you’ll excuse me I have a prisoner to deal with.”
Damien none to gently grabbed her elbow and pushed her forward, his haste to get her away did nothing to help the pain but she had no choice but to walk, her journey she knew was near an end. Instead of going toward the dungeon he hurried her into the hall and up the steps. She looked franticly for her children or Bryce but saw no sign of them. By the time he had entered the master chamber she was nearly blinded by the pain. He shoved her into a corner and she fell on her knees. Instantly she felt the shackle tightened around her ankle. Sitting on her bottom she spun around looking down at the offending device. It had to have been made just for her. It was lined with soft leather so it would not cut into her skin but it was still a shackle. The chain attached to it was long enough to give her mobility over nearly a quarter of the large chamber but it was still ultimately attached to the wall.
Cyrille hurried into the room and his eyes immediately fell on her. Through the hood she could not tell what the man was thinking, or if he was just enjoying the view as Damien seemed to be doing as he watched her.