Seared by Desire

by Jennifer T. Alli

  Chapter Sixteen – Aftermath

  Sara groaned as she woke, her head was pounding in agony and she stared unfocused at the ceiling struggling to remember where she was and what had happened. When realisation dawned as to why she was in such pain she cursed softly. Seraphina. Images flooded her mind of the destruction she had caused, the loss of life that had resulted from her lack of control and she had to bite back a sob. Her eyes slid shut as she murmured a quick prayer for the souls she had killed and for the new marks that her own soul now carried.

  Lucian shifted in his sleep, moving her body to be more in line with his and drawing her attention away from her macabre thoughts. As she looked at his sleeping face a measure of peace crept through her. He was safe. Her memories of her last minutes of consciousness were hazy and for a moment she’d thought she had dreamt seeing him, her fevered mind simply playing tricks on her. She frowned when she saw the dark smudges under his eyes, the paleness of his skin making the marks even more pronounced. His skin had lost what little colour it normally had and her frown deepened when she realised he hadn’t been feeding properly. Her own stomach grumbled loudly in sympathy, clenching hard as though she hadn’t eaten in days. Another pained groan slipped past her lips, forcing her into action. She wriggled out of Lucian's iron grip, noting that he hadn’t stirred in the slightest.

  “He really sleeps like the dead when he’s hungry,” she grumbled warmly.

  It didn’t take long for her to find suitable clothing and donning them she slipped out of the room and into the corridor, immediately noting that her surroundings were unfamiliar. The first thing she noticed was the different colour of the walls. While they had stayed at the Pentonville Manor, the walls had been painted a deep blue but the walls that greeted her eyes were completely white. She took a hesitant step away from the door closing it gently behind her so as not to wake Lucian. As soon as the door closed she realised that there was no reason for her to be so anxious about wandering the halls of this strange place. If Lucian felt safe enough to sleep, it meant wherever they were was safe enough for her to find a midmorning snack. Her steps now more confident, she walked down the corridor noting the differences between the Pentonville Manor and wherever it was they were now staying.

  The carpets were cream not red, the pictures on the walls were landscapes not portraits, the windows were shaped differently, the wall hangings for lights had been replaced with opulent chandeliers; the list seemed endless. What really grabbed her attention was the difference in layout. Despite the long length of her wandering, she’d found no stairs. Everything was on one floor with numerous corridors branching off into different parts of the building. The layout was why after twenty minutes she had yet to find the kitchens. Hunger tended to make her irritable and after twenty minutes of her stomach clenching in pain she was cursing after every step.

  “Goddamn kitchens, they should be easy to find. When I next speak to Lucian I’m going to tell him to invest in signs and a bloody map. I’m looking for food not the key to eternal happiness! Aargh!” she screamed in frustration.

  “Lady Sara?” She turned at the hesitant call of her name. “Thank the heavens Lady Sara it is you!” Sara frowned in confusion at the maid’s exuberant tone, the frown only deepening further when the large blonde woman enveloped her in a bone crushing embrace, holding her tightly against her generous bosom.

  “Lady Sara, it’s so good to see you.” Regaining a sense of propriety, she pulled away bowing low. “I’m sorry Lady Sara I was too forward.” She lifted her head, her eyes momentarily meeting Sara’s as though to gauge her mood. “It’s just very good to see you back on your feet though at this hour you should be resting.” She laughed, “Then again you have already done a lot of resting perhaps it is better this way. Where are my manners? I haven’t even introduced myself.” She curtsied, bowing even lower. “My name is Theresa.”

  Sara joined in with Theresa’s infectious laughter, guiding her to stand upright. “Please, no bowing and my name is Sara, there’s no need to be so formal.”

  “But Lady Sara,” she protested.

  “Sara is just fine though I’m curious as to why you acted as though you hadn’t seen me in years.”

  Her face fell. “Has no one told you?”

  “You’re the first person I’ve seen today. I’ve just been wandering about trying to find the kitchens.” Her brows drew together, her curiosity piqued. “Has no one told me what exactly?”

  “I don’t think I should be the one to tell you.”

  “Well you’re the only one around so you have to tell me.”

  Grasping Sara’s arm, Theresa guided her down the corridor, words flying hurriedly from her lips. “You must be hungry, I’ll take you to the kitchens. You did say you were looking for them right?”

  “Yes but Theresa, I want to know what’s going on?”

  “You shouldn’t try to think too hard on an empty stomach. Please, let me just take you to the kitchens.”

  Sara’s stomach grumbled again. “Fine,” she conceded. “But once where there I want to know exactly what’s going on.”

  “Of course my Lady.”

  She rolled her eyes in exasperation. “My name is Sara.”

  With Theresa leading, the pair soon entered the kitchens. More surprised faces greeted Sara upon seeing her and her desire to know exactly what was going on increased. Guided to a chair, Sara sat, waiting expectantly for someone to explain the situation to her. Most however seemed too dumbfounded to react appropriately to the question written clearly on her face and Theresa, the only one not too stunned to react, seemed intent on avoiding her.

  “George,” Theresa called. “Lady Sara is hungry, is there anything for her to eat?”

  The cook blinked several times, re-orientating himself before rushing into action gathering warmed meats, breads, cheeses and fruits to present to her. The smell of cooked food pulled her mind away from the unanswered question and she drew the plate close to her and began eating, the pain in her stomach subsiding enough for her mind to return to the shocked expressions on the kitchen staff’s faces and Theresa's unusual greeting.

  “So,” she drawled. “Anyone care to tell me why you’re acting as though I’ve come back from the dead?” Her question was greeted by silence and her eye twitched in annoyance. “Theresa? You told me you would explain what was going on once we reached the kitchens, please tell me.”

  Theresa twisted her hands nervously. George smiled, nudging her gently. “Your Lady asked you a question Theresa, answer her.”

  “Please,” Sara pleaded.

  “You’ve been sleeping for the past three days Lady Sara, we were all worried you might never wake up and Lord Lucian….” she trailed off, unsure of how to continue.

  “Three days!” Sara screamed, springing from her chair.

  George paled. “Calm yourself my Lady.”

  “How could I have slept for three days? What happened with the Malachites? Was Lucian hurt? Where are we?”

  “Please Lady Sara, sit down and I will explain everything.” She was hesitant but slowly lowered herself back into her seat, waiting expectantly for Theresa to continue. “We're at the Whitechapel Estate and you’re safe here. I wasn’t in New Malden so I can only tell you what I’ve heard.”

  “It’s still more than I know,” Sara grumbled.

  “When Lord Lucian brought you here with the army contingent he took to New Malden you were unconscious. Lord Lucian was injured but in a far better condition than he should have been considering what happened.”

  “What happened?” she pressed.

  “Commander Russell betrayed him.” Sara’s eyes widened in disbelief. “He’s William's brother and led Lord Lucian straight to him.”

  “It can’t be. Russell wants peace.”

  “He says that he thought William wanted peace too and that’s the only reason he took Lord Lucian to him.”

  “Where is he now? Or does no one know? Did he escape?”

  “C
ommander Russell is in the dungeons. Lord Lucian has refused to even look at him since they got here. Commander Gareth says that Russell fought against William to defend Lord Lucian, that’s the only reason he hasn’t been stripped of his rank and executed.”

  “So what’s Lucian going to do with him?”

  “No one knows. Lord Lucian has been so concerned with you and his plans for the Malachites that he’s not had time to think about anything else even his own health.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Lord Lucian isn’t feeding properly and hasn’t slept since he brought you here. From what I’ve heard he was determined to be awake whenever you woke but the training must have taken its toll on him.”

  “Training?”

  “The last attack seems to have spurred Lord Lucian to new heights. He’s determined to see the Malachites extinct. He trains the army every night, until they’re all exhausted. I doubt he’s even properly healed from the last battle.”

  Sara was silent for a few minutes, letting Theresa’s words sink in. One of Lucian's trusted friends had betrayed him and was in fact related to his worst enemy. He was hurt, determined to see his enemy dead but failing to take care of himself. It all added up to one thing, she was going to have to accelerate her plans. She stood, eyeing those around her nervously. If Russell could turn traitor so could Theresa and George. “I’m going out.”

  “You can’t my Lady.” George sounded appalled by the very idea.

  “I can and I am. There’s something I need to get for Lucian. You can’t stop me and I don’t advise you to try. If you’re really that concerned then come with me but don’t tell me I can’t go.”

  “But my Lady, the fire elementals are still looking for you. Tell me what it is you need and I’ll go myself and get it for you.”

  “You wouldn’t know what to get. I can handle the fire elementals but I’ll hide my appearance anyway. I don’t want them following me back here if Lucian’s hurt.”

  “You won’t change your mind about this will you Lady Sara?”

  “No Theresa I won’t.”

  Theresa moved then, returning with a thick dark brown cloak which she hung around Sara’s shoulders pulling the hood up to cover her distinctive hair and hide her face. She smiled, pleased with what she saw. “If she goes out like this George, no one will know who she is.”

  “I’m still not happy about this,” he groused. “I’m going to go with you.”

  “Fine. Is Lance here?”

  George smiled despite his unhappiness with the current situation remembering how the horse had followed Sara loyally onto the estate, trying desperately to follow her into the building. “Yes, your horse is here.”

  “Meet me in the stables in five minutes. If I don’t see you then I’ll go ahead without you.”

  “Of course my Lady.”

  He bowed and Sara rolled her eyes at the gesture but said nothing as she raced from the room. Her vision shifted from colour to heat, the change in perspective easily allowing her to find the stables and quickly saddle Lance. George didn’t disappoint appearing at the stables mere minutes after she arrived. With her self appointed guard, Sara spurred Lance into action confident of the direction she was travelling in with body heat as her guide.

  As they entered the city, Sara turned to George actually glad of his presence. While she could have completed her task alone, it would be done so much quicker with someone who knew where they were going. “Where is the armourer?”

  He didn’t even bat an eyelash at the strange question; he was growing used to his Lady’s oddities. “There are several my Lady.”

  “I need one that sells high quality armour.” She patted her coin purse for reassurance. “I don’t care how much it costs.”

  “Can you not make armour yourself my Lady? I’ve heard amazing things about your skill as a smith.”

  “I specialise in swords, I’ve haven’t made a full suit of armour in a very, very long time. I had planned to make it myself but I don’t have time to anymore, there are too many threats to Lucian for me to let him be without armour to protect himself.”

  “Lord Lucian has armour Lady Sara,” George commented confused.

  “Not like the one I intend to craft. It’ll be one of a kind, now where is the armourer?”

  He bowed his head in submission, missing Sara’s scowl. “This way my Lady.”

  Though Sara’s experience of cities was extremely limited, she was quickly coming to realise that there was always a distinction between the rich and the poor with the poorer parts of a city drastically outnumbering the richer. As they moved through the crowded streets of the lower districts, they passed several shops that sold armour, the battered dirty metal in no way what she needed. When the pair did stop, it was in the small wealthy quarter and the armourer was proudly displayed in the centre of the shopping district. The shopping district reminded her in some ways of her home village. There was a central fountain with the many shops forming a circle around it. She quickly dismounted Lance and led him to the entrance of the shop confident that George would follow.

  “Stay here Lance, I’ll be out in a few minutes.” The horse snorted as though it understood her command.

  Sara walked into the shop, her stride purposeful and her gaze focused. Her eyes slid shut and a gentle smile formed on her face the moment she entered the armourer, the familiar smell of heated metal soothing her frayed senses. She stood still as stone for a few seconds gathering herself before beginning her search. She was so concerned with finding the right armour that the world around her simply faded away. Starting at the door, she walked over to each piece of armour on display, touching it lightly. To the other customers in the store her actions appeared strange as she flitted seemingly aimlessly from one suit of armour to the next. Little did they know that her odd actions did indeed have a purpose. When her fingers grazed the metal, a small flame jumped from her skin to the armour, testing the metal’s properties.

  She had originally intended to craft Lucian armour with her own hands but recent events had forced her hand. It would take too long to make armour from scratch and with her lack experience, errors could be made, errors that might cost Lucian his life in battle. Now she had to find armour that she could work with but thus far her search had proved fruitless. None of the metal she encountered would withstand the heat she planned to subject the armour to.

  She was almost ready to give up on her search when she felt heat return unchanged to her fingertips. She pressed her fingers together, a smile forming on her face when the armour retained its shape. She had found something she could work with. Her search complete, she let the sights and smells of the world around her fill her sense.

  “My Lord, I’ve found armour that I think will suit your distinct tastes. The metal alloy it is made from is rare, the smith said it will take him weeks perhaps months to make another full suit. You will be unique, unlike the others on the battlefield, not to mention the strength of the metal means it would be very difficult for anyone to cause you harm.”

  Loud, cruel laughter filled the air. “Me enter battle? The very idea is ludicrous but very well, buy it.”

  The breastplate stirred beneath Sara’s fingers as the servant tried to take it from her.

  “Excuse me,” she hissed. “What do you think you’re doing?”

  “Let go. My master has decided he wants this armour and I must purchase it for him.”

  “I don’t care what your master wants. I need this armour.”

  He scoffed in derision, his brown eyes raking over her frame with disgust. “I doubt you can afford such a beautiful piece of work.”

  Her eyes wandered back to the metal, noting the golden specks in the material and the intricate design on the armour. He was right, the armour was beautiful, but it didn’t mean that he was going to get it over her.

  “My finances are none of your concern, now let go.” She could feel her fire rising, destructive urges beginning to fill her as thoughts of Lucia
n lying injured in battle flooded her mind. She needed this armour, Lucian needed this armour and no one was going to stop her from walking out of the shop with it in her possession.

  “Daniel, what exactly is taking you so long?”

  The servant’s master came into sight, his head held high and his spine erect. He walked with the sort of arrogance that was rarely earned, reserved only for nobility whose titles rarely matched the actions of their daily lives. His blonde hair was slicked back in what Sara assumed was an attempt to make him stand out more than his title already entitled him to. His nose wrinkled in disgust the instant he saw her and Sara’s hackles rose automatically. This man wouldn’t appreciate the armour, if the snippets of conversation she had overheard were correct he only wanted it for superficial purposes. His smooth hands had probably never even seen battle.

  “Daniel,” he snapped. “I have better things to do than to spend my day in an armoury shop now pick up my suit and let us be on our way.”

  “Yes master.” He tried to lift the breastplate once more but Sara’s grip was unrelenting.

  The noble’s blue eyes narrowed. “What do you think you are doing?” His tone was haughty as though he expected the mere idea of his displeasure to ensure obedience and beneath the heavy fabric of her cloak Sara’s hands clenched into fists.

  “I need this armour and I’m taking it with me.”

  He laughed. “How ridiculous! A commoner buying this piece of armour? Ludicrous. Daniel I can’t believe you let your self get held up by this filth. There is a simple way to settle this. Smith! Smith, come here now.”