by Riley Moreno
Angela snapped herself out of this fantasy, and saw with alarm that her hand was already halfway inside her skirt. She held her breath to try to calm down. Her imagination really did get quite wild sometimes, and she really had to concentrate hard to keep it in check. There would be plenty of time for such thoughts later, when she was alone, but not now, no, definitely not now, while she was heading into the busy and crowded town.
She reached the moat that surrounded the town, and the two guards manning the drawbridge recognized her immediately.
“Ah, Miss MacClough!” said the guard on the left. “Pleasure to see you! Go right on in!”
They uncrossed their long spears for her so that she could get through and cross the drawbridge that lead into town.
A new excitement now started to drive Angela on; she was only a few minutes from seeing Benjamin, and she couldn't wait. She wondered how he would react to her showing up early. Would he be surprised? Upset? Excited? Annoyed?
She grinned. She had caught the look he had flashed her yesterday; there had definitely been something welcoming and flirtatious in those beautiful light green eyes of his. She was not mistaken, no – it had been there for sure.
With a blossoming sense of joy in her heart, she dismounted from her pony and tied him to a post on the street. Then she hurried around the corner to where Will Johnson's forge was, eager and excited to surprise Benjamin.
And surprise him she did, for there he was standing outside the forge, with a girl – a girl whose arms were wrapped around his shoulders, pulling him in tight as she locked her lips on his, moaning with pleasure from the passionate kiss they were engaged in.
Angela's heart stopped for a few seconds, and everything seemed to move in slow motion. Benjamin suddenly caught sight of her, and he wrenched himself out of the girl's grasp and detached his mouth from hers.
“Angela!” he shouted. “Wait!”
But it was too late. She was already running, running blindly into the crowd with tears streaming down her cheeks and bitter sadness and disappointment nipping at her heels.
CHAPTER 3
Angela ran through the busy streets, her emotions a mess of disappointment, sadness and a lingering feeling of betrayal. She pushed through crowds of surprised bystanders and people going about their business, slowing down and stopping only when her legs grew tired.
“I can't believe it,” she sobbed to herself. “I can't believe I was so stupid! I feel like such a fool now. Why did I think he would be waiting for me with open arms? I'm just a customer to him, that's all... Nothing else. It's just that... That look in his eyes, when we first met. I could have sworn that there was something more in it. Something that was just for me. Attraction, interest... And there were those words that he wanted to say to me. What were they? Oh, I guess I'll never find out. I'm too embarrassed now to ever talk to him again. I'll have to send one of the nuns or monks to go to fetch those nibs, because I sure as hell couldn't face Benjamin again.”
“My lady, are you alright? What's the matter?”
Angela looked up in surprise at this new voice. She saw, looking down at her, a young man dressed in the colorful resplendent finery of a nobleman. He was mounted on a tall, well-kept stallion.
“Oh, it's nothing sir,” she replied. “I just, um, had a little accident. I hurt myself in a silly way, but I'll be alright.”
The man smiled at her. He was quite handsome; like her he had blonde hair and blue eyes, and his skin was ivory pale. He wasn't nearly as powerfully built as Benjamin, but he carried himself in a way that suggested strength, fitness, speed and confidence. He looked to be in his late twenties or early thirties, and had an expensive-looking sword strapped to his hip. Something told Angela that he knew how to use it.
“You don't need to call me 'sir',” he said, his voice honeyed and dripping with charm. “A woman as gorgeous as yourself, why, I should be calling you 'm'lady'. Although, of course, I think it would be best if we simply called each other by our names. I'm Daniel Higgins. And you are?”
His accent was strange; he sounded like he did not come from here.
“I'm Angela MacClough, sir.”
He laughed loudly, but warmly.
“Remember Angela, no more of this 'sir' business. Just call me Daniel. Or Dan, if you want.”
“Alright... Dan.”
“That's better.”
“Tell me Dan, are you from around here? I've never seen you in town or the countryside before, and I've lived in this place my whole life.”
“Oh, I'm from very far away. The south of England, actually. I'm just up here... um, visiting. I've, er, always wanted to see Scotland.”
Something suddenly seemed a little suspicious about Dan. The way he had just said this suggested to Angela that he was trying to conceal something, and his eyes had shifted ever so slightly when she had asked him the question. Alarm bells rang somewhere in the back of her mind, but she was too distraught from what had just happened with Benjamin to really pay any close attention to what her sixth sense was telling her.
“Oh, well, I've never met an English person before. You seem quite nice.”
“Oh, not nearly as nice as you, my beautiful dear. Tell me, do you like to drink?”
“Drink? As in, spirits, ale or wine?”
“Yes, exactly.”
“Well, I like to have a little wine now and then. Not too much though. The monks and nuns are pretty strict about those kinda things.”
“Monks and nuns? Where do you live?”
“I live in Lester Abbey, a few miles north of here. My parents died in an accident when I was only three years old, and the monks and nuns took me in and raised me.”
“Oh, I see. What do you do there at the abbey?”
“I'm a painter. Mostly I do illuminated manuscripts.”
“How fascinating! I don't believe I've ever met an artist before. Why don't you tell me more about it over a few cups of wine? There's a lovely tavern just down the lane, near the inn where I'm staying.”
“Right now, in the middle of the day?”
Again, alarm bells were ringing again in Angela's mind, but the man's charm seemed to push straight past those warnings.
“Well, actually, why not? I've got nothing else to do-”
“Angela! There you are!”
She spun around and saw Benjamin jogging up to them through the crowd. He was sweaty and his face was red; it looked like he had been running.
“I've been looking all over town for you,” he said as he approached the two of them.
Daniel leaned down from his saddle and whispered to Angela, “Who is this now?”
The image of the girl kissing Benjamin passionately, moaning with pleasure and putting her hands all over his powerful, muscular torso flashed through Angela's mind, and a stab of anger and jealousy shot its red rage behind her eyes.
“He's a creep who won't leave me alone,” she whispered back to Daniel.
She regretted saying the words as soon as they escaped her lips, but nothing could be done about that now – what had been said had been said. She still felt a powerful, magnetic attraction to Benjamin, but what he had done with that other girl made the blood in Angela's veins boil – not only from jealousy, but also from her feelings of how stupid she felt after building up this fantasy about her and Benjamin being together without having had any solid foundation in reality.
“Is that right?” replied Daniel, narrowing his eyes and frowning as Benjamin approached.
“Look, Angela, what you saw there at the forge, it's not what it looked like, really, I can explain-”
“Listen blacksmith,” interrupted Daniel coldly, “this lady doesn't want you around. She doesn't want you to bother her, and she doesn't want you to talk to her. If you know what's best for you, you'll turn around and leave, right now.”
Anger flared up across Benjamin's face.
“Who the hell are you? And what business of this is yours?”
“I'm Angela's n
ew friend. And you'll address me as 'sir', you scum.”
“What! You can't speak to me like that!”
“Yes, actually I can. You see, I'm nobility, and you're nothing but a lowly working class peasant.”
“Angela, please,” said Benjamin, turning away from Daniel and facing Angela. “Just let me explain.”
“She doesn't want to talk to you!” snapped Daniel. “What part of that don't you understand?”
“This is none of your business!” replied Benjamin angrily.
“I'm making it my business,” said Daniel.
“Really?”
Angela could see anger glowing red-hot on Benjamin's face, and at his side his fists curled into balls.
Quick as a flash, Daniel drew his sword from its scabbard and pointed it at Benjamin.
“As a nobleman, I'd be well within my rights to kill you, peasant, if you threaten me one more time. I suggest you leave right now, if you value your life.”
Benjamin looked at Angela once more, and now there was pleading written in his eyes.
“Angela, please, just hear me out.”
But Angela couldn't get the image of him kissing that girl out of her mind, so she steeled her will against pity and sympathy.
“Come on Daniel,” she said coldly. “Let's go. I don't want to talk to this man.”
Benjamin slumped his powerful shoulders and looked down dejectedly.
“Yes, let's go. Come, get up on my horse.”
Angela climbed up onto the back of Daniel's horse, and together they trotted away, leaving Benjamin alone and depressed in the middle of the street.
CHAPTER 4
Daniel tied his horse up outside the tavern and helped Angela down off of it.
“Here we are, the Pig and Whistle,” he said with a warm smile. “They've got the finest ale in town, and a good selection of wines.”
“That sounds great,” replied Angela.
“Come, let's go inside.”
Angela followed Daniel inside, and as they stepped through the doors it was as if she was entering another world. She had never been inside this place before, and for good reason; it was somewhat ill-regarded in the town, and thought of as something of a den of iniquity. She wondered briefly why a nobleman would be bringing her to a place like this to have a drink, but she pushed the thought from her mind; all she wanted to do at this moment was to forget how foolish she felt, and forget all about Benjamin Campbell.
The atmosphere in here was dark and dingy; a few oil lamps burned here and there, giving off trails of black smoke. All sorts of rogues and unsavory characters were huddled in groups, drinking. A group of prostitutes cackled with loud laughter in one corner as they drank themselves into a stupor. Daniel directed Angela over to an unoccupied table in a dark corner. He pulled the crude, rough-cut seat out for her.
“Have a seat, Angela.”
“Thank you,” she replied as she sat down. “You're quite a gentleman!”
He shot her a suave smile.
“Manners make the man,” he said. “Now, what would you like to drink? It's on me.”
“Oh, um, I'll have a glass of red wine, please.”
“Red wine it is. Stay here, I'll be back in a second.”
As he sauntered off toward the bar to buy the drinks, Angela was left alone with her thoughts for a second. She still couldn't shake the nagging feeling that something was off about this situation. Especially since they had come into this particular place, the Pig and Whistle, which seemed to be living up to its seedy reputation completely.
“Hello love,” rasped a voice in her ear, startling her and snapping her out of her daydream of thoughts and worries.
She looked up in surprise and saw a chubby, grimy man with lank, greasy hair standing right next to her and leering with his bloodshot eyes.
“Er, hello,” she stammered in reply.
“Now, what's a pretty young thing doing in a place like this, all alone?” he asked in his raspy voice. “You need some company, love? I'm a right decent fellow, I am.”
“I, um, no thanks, I'm here with a friend.”
“A friend huh? What kind of friend might that be, love? One as pretty as yourself, eh?”
His eyes were leering down at her breasts, and he licked his cracked, blistered lips slowly as he drank in the sight of their ripe, pert roundness beneath her blouse.
“Mmm,” he mumbled under his breath as he continue to stare.
“Get out of here, you filthy ruffian,” grunted Daniel as he returned to the table with a pair of drinks.
The dirty man looked up, and anger glowed in his bloodshot eyes.
“What did you just say to me, pretty boy?!”
Daniel drew his sword from its scabbard, and the sharp steel flashed brightly in the orange light of the oil lamp. The grimy man raised both of his hands as he backed away, looking suddenly fearful.
“Apologies sir,” he mumbled as he backed off. “I didn't mean no offense.”
“Keep walking, friend,” growled Daniel threateningly, “and don't come back.”
After the man had disappeared into the crowd, Daniel sheathed his sword and sat down.
“Apologies for that,” he said. “I shouldn't have left you by yourself for so long. There are dangerous men around here.”
“That's alright,” she said. “I feel much safer now that you're back.”
Do I feel safer though? There's something about this situation that really doesn't feel right. And Daniel, as handsome and dashing as he looks... There are some sort of alarm bells pealing out a warning in my mind. I have this feeling that he isn't who he says he is... There's something deeply unsettling and sinister about this man, something that seems to be becoming more and more apparent the longer I'm around him. I should try to find some excuse to get out of this place as soon as I can. I'll just finish this one drink and then I'll be on my way.
“Here's to you, my gorgeous Angela,” he said, raising his mug of ale.
She raised her glass of wine and clinked it against his mug,
“Thank you for the drink,” she said with a smile. “I really appreciate it.”
“My pleasure. Drink up.”
She took a sip of the wine. It tasted alright, but there was something odd about it – a secondary flavor, a taste of something else in it. She noticed that Daniel was staring at her intently as she drank it, but when she looked up he quickly looked away, and it seemed as if he was trying to pretend that he hadn’t been watching her.
“Tell me about your art,” he said suddenly. “I want to hear about your paintings.”
“Well,” she began, “I've been doing art ever since I was a little girl. It's the only thing I've ever really wanted to do. Without art, I feel like I'd have no purpose in life.”
“I see,” he said, nodding as he sipped on his ale. “And what kind of things do you like to paint?”
“Oh, I can paint anything. But I really love working with gold leaf and silver leaf. It's possible to create some really beautiful works of art using that medium.”
She took another sip of her wine. Yes, there was definitely something strange about this wine. It tasted as if something had been added to it. Her alarm bells were ringing very loudly and clearly in her mind now.
“Listen,” she said suddenly, “I have a lot of things I need to do. I should really be going.”
She tried to stand up – but felt the world beginning to swim around her. She looked up, and noticed that her vision was starting to get blurry. Through the haze that was clouding her vision, she saw Daniel grinning evilly at her. His handsome face now started to look like that of a demon. She tried to speak, but all that came out of her mouth was a low, moaning groan. Angela grabbed the edge of the table, trying to steady herself as she felt her knees starting to give out below her.
“Help,” she tried to say, but it seemed as if her mouth and throat – and every other body part – no longer wanted to obey her brain's commands. She lurched forward and tried to g
rab the table for support. She missed, and crashed heavily to the ground. The last thing she saw was Daniel's grinning face leering at her, and then everything went black.
CHAPTER 5
“She's waking up.”
“Good, good. I'll get some water.”
The voices sounded muddy and thick, as if they were being filtered through oaken doors. Angela noticed a pounding headache, throbbing its dull pain through her skull, and an intense dryness in her mouth. As the world around her started to become more visible, she began to get a sense of where she was. She was lying in a small, dingy room on a rough cot. A man was standing over her – someone familiar. As his face began to come into focus, she recognized him and couldn't help but smile: it was Benjamin!
“Thank goodness,” he said in his deep, soothing voice. “You've been out for a long time. We were wondering whether you'd wake up at all!”
“Where... where am I? What's going on?” she managed to croak.
The old blacksmith, Will, was standing next to the cot as well. He handed her a glass of cool water.
“Here, drink this,” he said. “You're in my house. This is Benjamin's room, but tonight he'll sleep on the floor. We'll get you safely back to Lester Abbey in the morning. As for now, I need to get back to my wife and get some sleep.”
With that he trudged out of the room, leaving Benjamin and Angela to themselves.
“Why am I here?” she asked. “What's going on?”
Benjamin pulled up a crude stool next to the bed and sat down on it.
“That guy you were with – the well-dressed, arrogant bastard – he drugged you. You're very lucky we got to you in time. He probably wanted to do the same thing to you that he's done to his other victims.”
“Victims? But... who was he? He said his name was Daniel, and that he was a nobleman from southern England.”
Benjamin shook his head, and an expression of disgust was smeared across his face.