by Arms, Angie
Chapter 13
Damien stared down at the manacles in his hands. The snow swirled around him and in the back of his mind he couldn’t help but think the harsh winter had arrived. When he had first started on his journey he had hoped he would be done with his task by now and ensconced at a warm keep somewhere with plenty of food and a soft bed to get him through winter. He had spent far too many winters freezing and going hungry on a battlefield. Now that hope seemed insignificant, was it just two moons ago he had ridden on Langley and saw the vision of courage atop the battlements. He prayed for her courage now because he felt fear rushing in on him, what would he do if he never found her? He became furious with himself, with his decision to ride away from her that day and not slay those men who wanted to take her from him.
The shifting of the men behind him sent desperation spiraling through him. What were his options? His mind would not turn fast enough but he knew it had to work quickly because Keri was out there somewhere. Was she alone? Despite the fighter she was, being alone was still a very dangerous prospect for one of her gender. If she was alone she would be looking for her children but he was the only one who knew where they were. Was she out there looking for him now? Would she go back to Haltwhistle?
The muffled crunch of footsteps sounded beside him. “The men have found a body,” Charles’s voice said breaking into the panic of his mind.
“Four men took her from Haltwhistle,” he said turning to Charles who seemed to have his faculties together despite his missing daughter. Damien on the other hand felt like rushing to his horse and climbing on his back and riding as hard as he could. The problem was where would he go? Where was Keri?
“Let’s ride to Kirk,” Charles said turning away. Did the man know he, the mighty warrior, was incapable of making a decision? How did he get to this point? How could one woman bring him to his knees?
He went to his horse and mounted, surprisingly content to follow Keri’s father hoping beyond all hope he would lead them to Keri.
~ ~ ~ ~
Damien was surprised at the older man’s stamina, they rode hard toward Kirk, arriving there in a day and a half. Plenty enough time for his senses to come back to him and he was ready for a fight so Charles’s order for the two armies to stay back came as a surprise and immediately his anger escalated.
“Why do we leave are men?” he gritted out.
“We don’t even know if Allister has her,” Charles explained in the face of his fury. He had grown to like Damien and respected him for he had been listening to the stories his men told of their battles. He saw the great warrior led firmly but fairly. But what won him over was this man’s passion for his daughter. It was that passion he saw now.
“This is why we must take down his walls and know for ourselves.”
Charles patiently shook his head. “Why risk your men and the lives of innocents when the battle need not take place? If we take only a handful the gates will likely not be closed against us. The last I heard Allister is a loyal subject to Richard.
“You will go dine at the man’s table and drink ale with him? He has gone to great lengths to see your daughter burn at the stake.”
“The men stay here,” he said firmly. As an afterthought he said, “You can too.”
Damien shook his head, calming the fight he had in him.
They were ushered into the main hall and given seats of honor upon the dais then were told Lord Allister would be along shortly. This gave the two men a chance to look about themselves. The hall was immaculate, appearing as if it was scrubbed from top to bottom daily along with everything in it. Ale was brought to them by two comely serving wenches whose dresses were also well cleaned and cared for. They brought out pitchers and mugs of ale, and a tray of bread and cheese but neither spoke, they did their jobs quietly then retreated far enough they could not hear what transpired at the head table until beckoned.
When Allister arrived in the hall a young woman followed in his wake then veered toward the kitchens. Allister went to the two who had served them, said something that made one dart quickly away. Neither had spoken nor offered curtsies or any other such acknowledgment to the man’s position. The man could be considered handsome in a stiff kind of way with perfectly combed hair, immaculate clothing down to his boots to match the immaculate hall Damien noted. He also noticed the way he moved and knew this man had once carried a shield and sword and still trained often.
“Lord Charles,” the man said stepping to the table to greet his guests. Charles had stood but Damien refused, lounging nearly insolently in his seat.
Allister noticed immediately and a tick jerked his mouth upward in disapproval but no other sign of his ire showed until his blue eyes met Damien’s. The flash of anger he saw there was enough to make anyone uneasy, Damien saw it as a challenge.
“What brings you to Kirk?” Allister asked taking his seat opposite them.
“I came to see my daughter before her trial.”
Bitterness washed over the man’s face. “The Lady Keri never arrived. I assumed some foul play occurred because the men who were to escort her never arrived either.”
Damien didn’t like him. He did not like the way he sat with his back ramrod straight and his shoulders back. He didn’t like the cold calculation he saw nor the quick flashes of fury the man tried to conceal. Most of all he did not like this man because he wished harm upon Keri. The way his mouth ticked and his eyes filled with deep seated hate showed his true character as a sore loser.
“Are you sure she isn’t now hidden away in your dungeon?” Damien asked, his posture remained relaxed but he was anything but.
“Who are you?” the man asked crisply but his eyes fell onto the plates that were being sat down before them.
“I am Sir Damien Le Forte.”
The girl who had entered the hall with Allister advanced to the table quietly to refill their tankards. Allister seemingly had dismissed Damien because he seized the server’s wrist and held her firmly as a small gasp escaped her. “This is not fresh bread,” he said as if he were talking to a child. He pointed to the bread, “I want what cook will take from the ovens next or has just taken from them.”
“Yes my lord,” she said quickly, barely audible but Damien heard fear there.
He released her wrist and she hastily began to gather the trays she had just sat down.
“Leave them,” he snapped and the girl jumped, upsetting the contents of Charles’s tray, spilling the bread onto the table.
In a flash Allister was out of his chair had the woman by her wrists and was pulling it painfully downward as the woman tried to remain standing. Damien could see as the Lord moved her away from the table that the girl was trying to control the sobs that threatened. All the way to the kitchen door he dragged her and then they disappeared. It was a few moments later before Allister reappeared followed by one of the servers bearing a fresh tray of bread.
He came back to the table and took a seat and as if the conversation had not been interrupted said, “Sir Damien, I’ve heard of you. King Richard’s champion and some would say henchman.” He lifted his mug and drank, even that was a carefully controlled action.
Damien stared at him and repeated the question calmly, “Where is the Lady Keri?”
“I do not know where she is,” he said, his voice less controlled, his eyes flashed his fury.
“The men who were to escort her, were they your men?” Charles interjected.
“Yes, Richard could not spare any men to bring her here.”
“Why are you going through this trouble?”
“Quite frankly I would be interested to see if this woman is a witch. I find the creatures an abomination.”
“The men you sent, who were they?” Charles asked as if he were having an idle conversation with an old friend.
Allister shrugged, “I do not remember their names. Two worked my dungeons but the other two were displaced knights from Flamborough.”
Was it a coincidence? He had bur
ned Flamborough, killed the lord who was openly disdainful of Richard. What were the chances that two of the men who served there would have come for Keri? Damien was ready to jump into action but again he found himself at a loss as to which direction to take. He just knew he could not sit idly by with news of this magnitude. This large of a threat to Keri.
It took all his patience to remain seated. How he wanted to knock a few teeth down Allister’s throat if nothing else. “You don’t believe she’s a witch any more than we do,” Damien accused hoping to bait the man.
“The trials will tell us what we need to know,” Allister stated flatly.
“Sir Damien, I think we found what we came for,” Charles said cheerfully as if there wasn’t a war ready to begin between the two men remaining at the table, the air crackling with tension.
Allister stood slowly, his hands clinched in fists and his eyes nearly bulged from his head as he stepped from the dais. He was a man close to snapping and Damien was eager for the fight.
“It was good seeing you again Lord Allister,” Charles said as he nearly took hold of Damien’s arm to pull him away but thought better of it at the last minute. Damien followed Charles, knowing Allister was not the man who could get Keri back and would be a waste of time. Charles he hoped would have a plan because he felt the frustration building because he himself did not.
~ ~ ~ ~
“Where are you taking me?” Keri asked for what had to be the thousandth time that day. They did not head toward Bewcastle, of that she was sure. Liam continued to ignore her as he sharpened his dagger. The man was obsessed with the little weapon, it was almost eerie to watch him stroke it with what appeared to be reverence.
“You are the biggest pig’s ass,” she declared losing her patience with him.
Cold blue eyes filled with malice looked up at her from underneath the red and gold lashes that were the most attractive thing about the man’s face.
“Is your plan so pitiful you are afraid to tell me? Or perhaps you have no plan at all.” At his continued silence she nodded, “That’s it isn’t it? You have shit for brains and can’t come up with a real plan.” Her voice was mocking and she saw the rage spread across his face.
“I have changed my mind. I take you to Prince John.”
“Why?” Keri’s mind raced for an answer to her question. What would the king’s brother want with her?
“To get my land back and have a place in John’s court. He will reward me greatly if I help bring the infamous Damien Le Forte to his knees and it will be my pleasure for he took Flamborough from me.”
“You are not man enough to make him so much as flinch, let alone bring him to his knees.”
“Oh my naïve little friend,” he said with that mocking sneer. “You are all I need to destroy him.”
Coldness seeped into her limbs and she narrowed her eyes in an effort to show this man before her that his words did not shock her. They were using her as a weapon against Damien. How could she allow such a thing? Surely he did not care for her so much that she could be used against him.
Keri laughed with genuine mirth. “You are the village idiot,” she declared and the scorn came out. “You always were the joke of Bewcastle. The one who people teased just to see how far they could push you and your craziness.”
He flew at her, his rage made him sloppy and she got a kick in to his side that nearly doubled him over. She made a grab for the knife but he knew what she was after and turned away so she could not grab it. His fist caught her in the side of the head and she felt herself falling into an abyss.
~ ~ ~ ~
By the time the men made it back to Haltwhistle it was to find a missive from the king waiting on Damien. He doubted Allister had had time to get a message of complaint to the king’s ears let alone for it to have arrived already summoning him to the king’s side. It was decided Damien would go to the king, Cyrille and Charles would continue to search for Keri while Roland stayed to keep Haltwhistle secure until the king could send a new lord.
They left shortly after arriving. Damien felt the need to make the journey with all do haste and hoped to not be far behind Charles and Cyrille. He travelled only with Edwin and extra horses to make their journey quicker. He wanted no delays and they arrived in Winchester within a couple days.
An excruciating two more days were spent waiting for the king to deign to meet with him after he had been sent for. He controlled his temper as he was ushered into the throne room.
“Sir Damien how did you find matters at Bewcastle?” the King asked.
“Your holding is in the very capable and loyal hands of Lord Charles.”
“Good to hear,” Richard replied with a satisfied nod of his head.
“There seems to be a situation at Wolverton. There are not only speculations that Lord Melvin is planning a revolt but an entire take over since he is some distant relative of my fathers, or so he claims.”
“Wolverton your highness?” His mind jumped with rage. That was farther away from Keri and the danger she was in.
“Yes, it’s not really worth taking which I suspect is a large part of Melvin’s ill content.”
“You wish me to take Wolverton from him?”
“No, we will travel there together and take it together. Be prepared to leave at dawn.”
Damien bowed to the king and left with an outward calm he was far from feeling. He was resigned to the fact he had to do what he had to do. He could not defy the king and not be there at dawn, without it meaning his death. He’d be no help to Keri then.
~ ~ ~ ~
“Are you well?” Garrick asked as he brought Malik alongside Phantom. Malik was a sleek white horse that had been born and raised in the desert. When they had fled their prison the men had stolen horses to make it back to the safety of the Crusaders. Every horse they had taken had been run into the ground, left abandoned along the way, except Malik. He had carried more than one rider and at the end Garrick had forced him to make a mad dash for help. The horse had remained strong and Garrick had become truly attached to the animal, a circumstance that was foreign to him. By the time they had left the dessert Garrick had acquired a number of horses that shared Malik’s bloodline.
Damien looked at Garrick with a brow raised but made no reply, unsure how to answer the question. He did not think “well” was a good word to describe his state since Keri had left his side.
“You let this woman soften you.”
“I do what I must,” Damien snapped. “Who are you to question it?”
“I wish to see no harm come to you.”
“I can take care of myself.”
“I have ordered Countess Ryann to Lenox so we can wed.”
“And you expect her to come?” Damien asked with surprise evident in his voice.
“She was engaged to the old Lord of Lenox and resides within my holding at Kilkenny.”
“Did Richard not offer to provide you with a bride?” Damien asked casting a glance behind at the large army that followed. Somewhere in the mêlée was King Richard. The thought did not fill Damien with happiness.
“He did but I think Countess Ryann would be acceptable and convenient since she is familiar with the old lord and the people of Kilkenny. She is also older than most men like when seeking a bride, therefore the King is happy I have chosen her.”
Damien shook his head at the man’s confidence. He really had no idea how to deal with women, not that Damien was an expert. But even Damien knew you did not demand a Countess to present herself to be wed to a mere lord. Especially to a Lord with the reputation of Garrick. She had probably already fled in terror.
“Can you spare me by your side for the moment? She would already have arrived,” Garrick said with the utmost confidence the woman would obey. “I leave my men under your command.”
Damien did not trust any of Garrick’s men and knew the man had little control over them at times. They however were some of the best warriors he had ever seen and would help to make the takeover
of Wolverton all the speedier.
“Go, but when you find her not there return to me. We will then petition the king if this is the woman you want. She could not ignore him.”
Garrick scoffed at him before turning and riding away.
Chapter 14
For two days Richard and his loyal vassals lay siege to Wolverton. At the end of those two days the king was furious and refused to listen to Damien when he tried to reason with him that he should not destroy his own holding. But the king was still a king and by the third day the walls were leveled and only one tower of the keep was left standing. They went about searching the bodies laid in the snow, their blood turning crimson and then pink in the wintry fall that reached the men’s calves.
Richard lived up to his name Lionheart when he found Melvin before the castle walls were leveled. The man proclaimed his innocence of any rebel connections but Richard was experiencing bloodlust and there was no reasoning with him. No way could Damien talk him out of torturing the man he believed to be innocent. Before it had all ended Lord Allister arrived and Damien’s apprehension grew.
Another day was wasted while Richard met with his nobles who included Allister. Damien became furious at his king and furious with everyone else because he could do nothing but wait for the king to dismiss him, if he ever would. Hidden rage was his constant companion, consumed his waking hours and intruded upon his sleep.
“Garrick and his men arrived at noon,” Edwin informed a not so sober Damien one evening as he approached the oppressive tent. “His majesty wishes to see you.”
Was the man finally ready to make a decision he wondered turning and stalking toward the king’s tent? Outwardly he waited patiently but inwardly he seethed wondering if Allister had told him Keri was missing. Would he demand she be found or would he write the matter off and move on to another more pressing one. Finally, he was granted entrance to the tent, his mind whirling with possible outcomes.
“You sent for me?” Damien asked with a bow using all his control not to show his aggravation.