by Arms, Angie
Looking down at the body the dagger was no longer protruding from his eye socket. She stood panting, the cold surrounding her forgotten. She heard shouts and curses as she stood on her tiptoes to get a better look at her hands and the lock binding her wrists. Her hands shook and she nearly dropped the knife as she turned it in her hands in order to get the point to the key hole. She stopped a moment, willing her hands to stop shaking. Blood oozed from her wrists, her fingers wet and numb refused to stop their trembling as she made several attempts to get the point into the hole. Finally she succeeded and concentrated on working the lock and not trembling so badly the point would come back out.
She cast a furtive glance toward the fire a distance away then back to her hands. She repositioned, giving the knife a different angle. Frustration mounted as she gritted her teeth. In her legs tremors began that flowed through her body in earnest not aiding her as she began hammering the point around in the hole. Finally the iron opened and it was all she could do to hold the blade in her numb, shaking hands. She turned slightly, alleviating some of the muscle tension as she switched hands with the dagger and began work on the other. When that came lose her body gave out. She did not know if it was exhaustion she had stayed off until that very moment or if it was the relief that made her collapse but she found herself on the ground panting. She allowed herself only a few breaths before she struggled to her feet. Bending, she quickly gripped the knife with both hands and slid it into the top of her boot, and then turning fled into the cold darkness.
~ ~ ~ ~
She moved quickly throughout the night. At least she thought it was quickly, her body had gone beyond exhaustion to a running numbness. Her breath was labored and each intake and exhale of breath bit at her chest, creating a stabbing pain that made her want to stop, but she could not. She had to run, get away, and survive.
Dawn was just beginning to break when they came for her. The three of them as if they had been following her all night, or perhaps she had traveled in a circle. They surrounded her, the men were angry, even their horses seemed angry as they blew in the morning chill.
Keri stopped, for running now would be fruitless as the exhaustion threatened to buckle her knees. She stared at them, atop their horses, their faces obscured in the early morning shadows but she sensed their fear. She had killed one of them with their own knife. There were any number of ways a witch might accomplish it so none of them were in a hurry to approach her. The woods were just beyond them and her brain quickly calculated the chances of reaching them. She dodged the closest horse and made a mad dash for cover, knowing she would never be able to outrun the horses. Suddenly one was there, in front of her and the rider’s foot was lifting. She raised her eyes in time to collide with the cold blue of Liam’s before pain exploded in her head and darkness rushed in on her.
~ ~ ~ ~
Damien pushed his men and himself beyond the brink of endurance in his haste to get to Bewcastle and carry out the king’s orders. The snow from the two nights before was melting from the bright sun as Damien rode into the courtyard of Keri’s home. As the people looked upon him curiously as they went about their work he couldn’t help but think of her and see her in the children who ran about playing. He knew instinctively this place did not house rebels. Their gates were open and they welcomed him in and were not afraid to see the king’s men arrive.
Lord Charles waited for them on the steps of the keep. Damien looked up at the older man, his defiant chin had passed itself down to his daughter, as well as the same golden flecked brown eyes he noticed immediately as he drew Phantom to a stop. He could imagine a young Keri bounding down the stone steps and racing across the courtyard. In his mind’s eye he also saw Alec waiting for her at the gate, open to the world for them to conquer. He scowled and bitterness washed over him mingled with regret for killing Keri’s friend. He wondered when regret played a part in his duty.
Damien knew he and his contingent of 12 would be an intimidating sight as the old man descended the steps to greet them. Damien’s helmet still sat upon his head his chain mail protecting his body and a hand rested near, always ready to draw his sword and he hoped Charles would readily recognize Damien and his men had come ready to fight. Recognition was clearly written on the uncertainty of Charles’s face. The stories of Sir Damien, the man who had destroyed castles and taken back lands from suspected rebels would have reached him by now. He would know there leader by the man in the hood who rode beside him.
Damien swung from his massive horse onto the ground and waited for the nobleman to approach him.
Damien stood at his full height in an effort to be as intimidating to this man as possible. He didn’t want to hurt Keri’s father. He wanted to leave here in peace. As a matter-of-fact he wished he hadn’t come here at all. “I am Sir Damien Le Forte sent by King Richard in an effort to ensure there are no rebels in control here.”
“Sir Damien, your loyalty to the crown is a legend to old warriors like me. It is an honor to have you and your brother with us,” he said motioning to the hooded man who still sat atop his horse.
“Come,” Charles said taking two steps back toward the hall. “You and your men must be tired and in need of a meal. Stay the night and I will apprise you of the goings on and let you be the judge.” He cast a glance back to make sure Damien followed.
Entering the hall Damien took note of the tidiness of it. The floors were freshly swept, clean rushes placed on it. The long tables were clean, and windows allowed light to stream in giving it a freshness that was a welcome change to most keeps he had been in. Charles bellowed for the servants to bring ale and refreshments before motioning Damien into a chair on the dais near the hearth.
“I also bring word from your daughter,” Damien said as he sank gratefully into the chair. How was he to tell him of his daughter’s fate and the role he himself had played in it? He would be more comfortable charging into a battle than sitting here facing Keri’s father.
“Keri,” Charles said, as he sank his bulk into the chair next to him. “You have seen her, is she well?” he asked eagerly. “How do you know her?”
Damien’s frown stopped the questions. Charles had welcomed him graciously into his home but all he could do now was take a deep breath and tell him of killing his son-in-law, imprisoning his only child, and then his inaction that resulted in Keri being carted off to be tried as a witch.
“Tell me Sir Damien, did you come here to kill me?”
Damien looked away, down at the table, at the grain of the wood, the way it looped and swirled about in an organized yet chaotic way. Isn’t that what his life had become, chaos he tried his best to bring order to? He redirected his gaze back toward Keri’s father, “I came under the King’s order.”
“Do you do all that the king asks of you?”
“Do you not,” Damien countered with steel in his voice. “I am a knight in direct service to the king, it is what I do.”
“What of her children?” he asked scowling at him. “A boy and a girl wasn’t it?”
“How is it that you do not know?”
“I have only heard news, she did not leave here making plans for family reunions,” the man replied sadly. He waved his hand, “the children?” he urged.
“I sent them to safety.”
The man looked surprised. “What would make it unsafe for the children?”
“Tell me first how it is you do not know your grandchildren.”
The man before him sighed and appeared to age before his very eyes. “I did not raise Keri as one would a typical lady. I let her train with my men, she hunted with us, and she was always at my side as a son would be. Longer, actually, since she was not sent away to complete service. When the king ordered her married I realized my mistake too late. She left here hating me, promising to never forgive me.”
Damien took a deep breath and plunged in, telling Keri’s father what he knew of his daughter’s marriage and finally of the accusations she was a witch.
�
�Richard asked about your granddaughter Waverly. That and Kennet’s young age makes them both targets until this is all settled.”
“All settled?” Charles asked. “Will it be settled when my daughter is dead? Is that what you mean?”
“I don’t know,” Damien admitted ashamed that he did not have a plan. “They are well but I told Richard they died at Langley.” Why had he let this man know he had lied to the king? Though he was Keri’s dad he did not know yet if he was friend or foe, just like his daughter.
“Why would you help Keri’s children? What’s in it for you?”
“Despite the things I have done in the name of the king I could not stand by and let harm come to her children.”
Charles stared at the knight sitting beside him. It was obvious his daughter had some kind of hold over him. The stories told of the man hanging rebels and the lords that allowed them refuge then burning their keeps down around them did not sound like a man who would bother to save his grandchildren. He had to wonder what happened between his daughter and this rough edged knight beside him. Not anything of significance since he let her go. So where did that leave him in getting her back?
Hours later Charles found sleep elusive and made his way to the hearth in the antechamber designed to accommodate the lord and his guests without having to converse In the main hall. By the giant hearth Damien stood staring into the flames making it look small in comparison to his solid frame before it. At first he did not realize he had company but when he did he swung quickly, his sword arm ready to jump into action. He only halfway relaxed as Charles moved closer. He watched him with a cool indifference that was disconcerting before turning away to watch the flames once again.
“Troubles on your mind?” Charles asked stopping behind him.
A humorless laugh escaped the knight as he shook his head.
“How long did you say you were with Keri?”
Slowly Damien turned, his eyes calculating. “What difference does it make?” he asked sounding almost defensive.
Charles shrugged, “Just wondering if you had a chance to get to know my daughter. What kind of marriage she had before you…,” he halted and looked up at Damien. “Well, before you killed her husband.”
The man’s dark brows pulled together in a scowl. “Two moons,” he suggested and seemed surprised by the answer. “As for killing her husband I did her and all humanity a favor.”
Charles did not think Damien would ever appreciate all the information he gleaned from that one statement but he knew the man cared a great deal for his daughter. “So what are you doing here Sir Damien?” Charles asked matter-of-factly.
“I told you,” Damien nearly snapped at him.
“You told me why the king sent you. You just have not told me why you are here and not trying to get Keri back.”
Damien’s scowl deepened. “To get her back would go against the king’s direct order.”
“How so?” Charles asked unaware the dangerous waters he was treading.
“Because he sent me after rebels here, and ordered her taken to Kirk for trial.”
“So you will stay here to fight rebels who do not exist while Keri stands alone to face the fire?”
“She is not my responsibility,” Damien stated angrily.
“You took her home, her husband, and her children. I bet you have even bedded her.”
The knight jerked as if he had been struck.
“Do you have any feelings for my daughter?” Charles’s voice had dropped from confrontational to conciliatory.
A battle exploded inside Damien’s head. “I am servant to the king first.”
“So you used Keri?” Charles asked, trying to keep the edge out of his voice. Charles was trying to figure out if his daughter was inconsequential to Damien or his Achilles heel.
Damien refused to look at him and was obviously growing uncomfortable under his scrutiny if his sudden inability to remain still was any indication.
“Did you use my daughter?” Charles snapped. “Answer me you cur!”
Damien turned toward him a smile raised the corner of his mouth and he finally shook his head.
“How could you let them take her?”
Damien looked at him then looked quickly away with a shrug that told him nothing and yet everything.
“Do you want her back?”
Again silence was Charles’s only answer.
“Do you want my daughter back?” Charles yelled stepping closer.
Uncomfortably Damien looked down at him with a scowl etching deep furrows across his brow and he knew he could not conceal the sorrow threatening to rip his heart out from showing in his eyes.
“Do you?”
“Yes!” Damien replied with the vehemence of a man who had lost all his strength. “I want her back,” he continued in a near whisper. “I have never wanted anything in my life like I want her.” He walked to a nearby chair and sank into it. “I’m scared to death and I don’t know why?”
Charles took the seat across from Damien. “Are you afraid you’ll lose your position with the king?”
Damien nodded his head.
“Are you afraid your enemies will see you with Keri and see your weakness?” Again Damien nodded.
“Are you afraid now that you have let her go, you’ll never see her again?”
Forlorn eyes fell on Charles but the man did not answer.
“We all have our weaknesses. Some more obvious than others. But to have a weakness is to be human.”
Damien slammed his fist down on the chair arm and the sound reverberated around the chamber as he shot to his feet. “I don’t want a weakness. I don’t want to feel this… I don’t want this…,” he stammered swinging on Charles wanting desperately for someone to save him from his own torment.
“Do you want to forget her? To forget you ever knew her, to forget the time you spent with her.”
Charles could tell the question knifed through the younger man. Never would Damien want to know a life without Keri.
“Prepare your men to leave at dawn,” Charles said. “We’ll ride for Kirk and put an end to this and we’ll kill anyone who stands in or way.” Charles nodded as if he had just convinced himself of what needed to be done, then turned made his way back to his chamber.
~ ~ ~ ~
A million hammers rang in Keri’s head when she first came awake. She tried to turn quickly but arms caged her. She heaved, her eyes rolling back into her head unable to make sense of what was happening to her. The hands roughly flipped her over just in time for her stomach to relieve itself. She saw the ground, the legs of the horse, felt the movement under her, felt the bones of the legs she lay across digging into her ribcage while a hand fisted in her hair in order to hold her head up and not vomit on him or the horse. Liam. Blackness rushed up and enveloped her again.
The chill of the morning woke her, how many mornings had passed she did not know. No blanket or comfort was given her. She was merely pulled from the horse and left on the ground in the vicinity of the fire. Liam sat across from her, watching her, twisting his dagger round and round in his hand, pressing a finger to the point of it from time to time.
After a moment the nauseousness thankfully left her and she raised herself to a sitting position, leafs clinging to her hair.
“Well, well, if it’s not the little warrior,” Liam said with a great deal of disdain in his voice. One of the men who had taken her from Haltwhistle chuckled.
She remembered when she was only a child Liam had declared he would wed her one day and she would stop with her boyish ways. Stop wearing boy’s clothes, stop training with the boys, stop riding and most importantly to stop playing with Alec and comport herself as a lady. She vowed she would never and he had backhanded her. It was the first time she had ever been struck in such a manner. She had fought, landed and taken many blows but never had any of her opponents resorted to such a tactic. She had been furious, had attacked him with her feet and fists but they had not been of any use against
a boy so much larger than she. Laying there near him made her want to try again.
“What do you want Liam?”
The man laughed. “It’s amazing how things change. When I left Bewcastle all I wanted in the world was to see your father and Alec pay for what they did. Now that Alec is dead I find that’s not enough. I want Charles to see you and his entire line wiped from the face of the earth before he dies.”
“All this because he sent you away?”
“You do not know what it was like after I was sent away,” he said leaning forward so the changing light of morning played across his features turning them more angular, disconcerting because it made his face appear demonic. “The things I had to do. But one such as you would never understand.”
“You’re right,” Keri said. “I would never know what it’s like to be a spineless worm.”
Keri had a moment of satisfaction as Liam sat before her speechless then a sardonic grin crossed his features. “I cannot wait to see you under my blade.”
“We all have our dreams.”
Liam shot to his feet, the anger molted his skin with splotches of red as the light of day made its appearance. Keri had to wonder if this might be her last day to see a sunrise.