by Jewel Adams
She pulled her gaze away from the untouched food, letting them drift to the lightning sky beyond her open balcony. Already she could hear his men moving about, but then she doubted anyone slept that night.
When the first cry of battle echoed in the mist strewn dawn, Amy raced to her balcony. Her gaze swept the keep finding him almost instantly. As if he felt her eyes upon him Bern’s head swung about to seize her gaze. Amy cursed the distance and men keeping her from his side. Without thought her hand reached out as if she could touch him.
The languid smile that graced his stern features lasted only a second before his voice bellowed out orders and that powerful stride took him away from her sight. Amy’s fingers clenched into a fist, dreading what would come. “Take care my rouge Lord, take care.”
All the pain and anger deserted her, replaced by her fear for the man so embedded in her heart. No matter what fate she still might face, nothing must happen to him. For the first time in her life Amy looked into her heart for the answers. What she found was love, a love that she died to find and one she vowed never to lose.
She felt the presence behind her, but refused to turn away, not wanting to be denied the sight of him.
“Lady Amelia? Lord Randall asks that you come back inside for your own safety.”
“And what of him?” The embarrassed blush she caused from the guard defeated her argument to stay.
The guard left her alone, once he was satisfied she would stay in her chamber. The shouts and angry yells beneath her in the keep tightened her stomach in a powerful hold. Once, her frantic pacing took her back to her lookout, but an arrow landing in the opening stopped her with its harsh reality. Her thoughts never left Bern and the wound that she feared would hinder his movements. “Please be safe, my love. Ach, but you are and no denials will change what has happened between us.”
The battle went on and on, causing Amy to lose track of time. How could they fight so many hours? “Doesn’t it ever stop!”
Amy waited in agony for him to come to her. The sun began to set and with it Amy’s final grip on her composure. Hearing the door begin to open she started running for it. “Bern!”
His name caught in her throat seeing Captain Lansing standing in the opening. “Captain?”
“Aye lass, the Lord sent me to see how ye faired.”
The ill feeling of seeing the man struck Amy as odd. After all, he was Amelia’s guardian, but why didn’t Bern come? Unconsciously her gaze went to Bern’s guard, almost relieved over their presence. What she failed to see at first were the other men behind the captain.
“Are ye ill child? I’ve never seen ye so distraught over a battle before.”
Taking a steadying breath, her hand absently pushed back her lose hair that long ago escaped its confines. “I am fine, Captain. How are we fairing?” She took a chance asking the Captain, considering his feelings towards Bern.
“Fine lass, not to worry, no breach made. Ye can thank that Lord of yours and his men, a right fine fighting lot they be.”
Why did she sense anger in his boast? No, not just anger, but a seething hatred. Amy stiffened against her raising instincts. “Thank you for coming, Captain Lansing.”
She wanted him to leave. When he didn’t she fought the urge to back away from him. Before she could react the Captain advanced.
Everyone moved at once, his men surprised Bern’s. The fight went swift and silently deadly. Amy’s horrified gasp became lost as the Captain and his men advanced into her room.
“Ye have been out of sorts lately, lass. Now ye best come peaceful. I’ve no heart to hurt ye, but I will if need be.”
“What are you doing?” Backing away she quickly ran out of space. Her gaze swung to the men that fanned out in back of the Captain. Their act alone made her shiver over the danger they posed. “Get out!”
“Tch, Lass, ‘tis for ye own good. That Lord will ruin everything if I let him have his way.”
“Captain, he won’t I promise.”
His snort made her moan inside.
“Ye are too smitten by him to think straight.”
“What are you going to do?”
“Why save ye Lass, Sir Peter is a much better match for ye.”
“No…” Amy’s cry didn’t stop the man. “Oh please, you are wrong.”
Shaking his head at her. “Get her men!”
Too many strong hands ended her pitiful attempt to escape. The gag forced passed her tight lips destroyed any thought screaming. The ropes tying her wrists together ended her fight.
Amy’s stunned gaze wanted to hide from the deranged man advancing on her, but the men holding her even prevented that defiance.
“Now lass, see what ye have driven me to.” Lansing’s finger caught the tear that escaped from her frightened eyes. “Take her away.”
The force with which she landed over one of the brute’s shoulder nearly knocked her senseless. Amy felt vaguely aware of the dark corridor they raced through. The cooler air told her they were outside the castle walls.
She tried not to show how painful their treatment became, but failed miserably when they flung her up and onto a horse. Only the brute that mounted behind her kept her from falling off.
They rode as if the devil were at their hells and the belief he would be gave Amy the only hope to keep her sanity. Bern would follow, her conviction and belief in him were too strong for doubts.
The branches whipped at her face and hair leaving stinging reminders of what she still would face. Amy told herself over and over that this man, this Lord Humbolt could not be the man she knew as Peter. Despite logic her fear mounted with each racing hoof fall.
Their ride was short, but Amy’s thoughts were too chaotic to notice until all movement stopped. The sounds of muffled voices unwillingly drew her attention. She could make out the Captain’s voice, noting how smug he sounded. She wanted to disappear and must have swayed because the rough hands holding her bit into her arms to straighten her.
“Here now man, she looks done in. Captain you really should restrain your zealous men, I don’t want her bruised senselessly--that pleasure is only for my hands.”
Against her will Amy’s tortured eyes rose to confirm the horror she felt standing so close.
Peter! She couldn’t pull her incredulous gaze away, his evil seemed to draw her closer. No, how could it be him? He moved nearer until his vile hand came to rest on her cheek. His fingers traced the tender scrap a limb left on her cheek. The pain made her blink to fight back the tears.
“A bruise on your delicate face, Amelia? I was wrong not to take the upper hand with you before, so much time has been wasted.”
His gaze raked over her breast stopping at the torn material she couldn’t reach to close. What she saw in his lustful eyes revolted her senses. Raising her foot she kicked his chest sending him stumbling back from the unexpected retaliation, nearly unseating herself and her captor in the process.
“You little bitch. I’ll soon tame your rebellious spirit.”
His hold was cruel as he pulled her protesting body down from the horse. Amy’s knees weren’t strong enough to hold her up once they touched the ground, giving him the advantage to jerk her up hard against him. “My little schemer, you are hardly a match for me.”
“Now look here Lord Humbolt, ye can’t treat Lady Amelia like this.”
Shoving her into the arms of one of his men. Amy watched in terrified silence as he turned and advanced on Captain Lansing. She tried to warn the Captain away, but the gag and hands holding her back ended her feeble attempt.
“You seem distressed Captain Lansing.”
“I thought ye would be better for the lass. I’ve made a mistake.”
The tears constricted her throat, he wasn’t a cruel man, only mislead by his need to protect Amelia. Oh, how wrong he’d been and Amy groaned at the price she feared he would pay for the error.
“It is too late to change your mind, Captain.”
“Like hell it is, release her!�
�
The man’s wicked laughter made Amy shake from head to toe. His cold glare delighted in her fear.
Dear Gawd, in truth he wasn’t Peter, not the man from her time, but Amy saw and felt the same terror, if not more, from this conceited vermin. Here there were no laws or social codes to hinder the man’s brutality. Here he was the law.
“I am afraid Captain that it is out of the question. Put her on my horse!”
Before they dragged her away Amy caught the flash of silver from the knife Peter drew from his belt. Her scream didn’t carry far enough to give the Captain any warning.
The man’s death cry reached her ears, too much for her gentle senses to accept, blessed darkness held the only haven from her suffering.
* * * *
“Don’t leave her and keep her bound, I’ve no time to waste chasing her about the countryside.”
Even through the haze in her mind Amy heard the vicious orders and the woman’s muffled acceptance. Silently groaning, Amy’s precarious existence came through sickly clear. No, no one would have the courage to defy Humbolt to help her.
Fear didn’t diminish the dangerous presence that moved closer. Using all the control in her possession Amy forced her body not to respond to the icy fingers taking hold of her chin. Hiding the fact she was conscious took over all her facilities.
“When she wakes, clean her up. I abhor the filth I see!”
“Yes my Lord.”
“Send for me the moment she wakes.”
The silence replacing his leave fell like a shroud, allowing her the freedom to breathe. She resisted the urge to pull her body up, fearing the remaining presence she sensed would call him back. Tight as a bowstring she kept herself still.
“He has gone back to the battle.”
Barely a whisper, Amy fought her indecision to believe the compassion she heard in the small feminine voice.
Her body gave an involuntary jerk to pull away from the unexpected touch at the back of her head. As much as she wanted to believe she could hide forever, cold honesty made Amy’s eyes slowly open to see who pulled away the gag from her sore lips.
Willow eyes all large and open in their lost innocence, that held only the horrors rendered on such a young girl, starred into her own.
“If we are lucky he will spend his energy on the siege and seek his tent on returning.”
The hands righting her into a sitting position held surprising strength for the thinness Amy couldn’t help but notice. Sixteen or younger, not more than a child, but even beneath the ragged garment hanging off her shoulders Amy’s appraisal picked up the elfin like loveliness in the girl.
“They call me Wynon.”
“Amy.”
The girl’s laughter gentled the hardness in her features, exposing the mischievous child that the girl had once been.
“To call ye other than Lady Amelia would be a sin, not even I could scoff away. Nay, for ye, I use your proper title in honest regard.”
“Why?” Amy dearly wanted to know and keep the girl called Wynon, now moving about the large tent, talking to avoid facing where she’d come to be.
“I have many kin in your lands, they always speak true praise of your kindness.”
Without thinking Amy’s eyes were too obvious over her hope.
The sharp jerk of the girl’s head made her lids lower in defeat--no, she’d not release her.
“He would kill me.”
Hearing the girl’s regret and fear made Amy swallow her arguments. “I understand.”
“Will the other one come for ye?”
Taking a cautious look to see that she did not mistake the hope in Wynon’s question. “Yes, Wynon, I pray he will.”
“I saw your Lord. He is a fierce one, he is.”
“Bern.” Speaking his name felt like a balm to her fears. “When did you see him, Wynon?”
“The ambush two weeks back. I snuck out to find my mother’s brother, but hid in the bushes when Humbolt and his men came riding into the woods.”
Fascinated by the girl’s vivid retelling of the men taking up their positions for the ambush while she hid in their midst, Amy almost missed the revelation coming at her.
“They were no match for ye Lord or his fine men, only the life of a squire nearly cost him his own. T’was glad to hear he lived from his wound, made the almighty Lord Humbolt reel in anger when he heard.”
“It wasn’t a boar…” Amy’s gaze came back from her memory of that awful day. “He never told me about the ambush.”
“He saved the boy’s life by stepping in and taking the blade in his thigh.”
Amy closed her eyes over the tremor that passed through her, knowing how close Bern came to nearly dying for his heroic jester.
The sudden movement of the girl made Amy’s knuckles tighten against the ropes binding her wrist. Biting her lips Amy’s apprehension rose as Wynon raced out of the tent. Concentrating pass the thunder of her heart Amy tried to hear what caused the girl’s desertion.
Just as unexpectedly she reappeared. The stark paleness in the shallow features beneath those large green eyes made Amy moan.
“He is coming back. Your Lord is not waiting for the siege to end. He comes to attack outside the castle!”
Amy tried to fight the wave of weakness the thought of Humbolt brought to her. Bern must know she is gone!
“Lie back down, my lady, pretend to be asleep!”
“If he touches me again--I can’t Wynon, he’ll know.”
The girl stood as if torn by some great decision before finally moving away from Amy.
Amy shook her head against the goblet of wine Wynon poured. The small vile Wynon produced from her pocket held Amy’s attention as the girl emptied it into the wine. When the girl raised it to her lips Amy instinctively recoiled. Would the girl poison her out of loyalty?
“Please, ‘tis a sleeping potion. I have used it on him many times to avoid his attention during the long nights. If ye cannot fake unconsciousness, then it would be best to truly be such--he likes women to feel his cruelty--drink it!”
Amy’s stunned eyes dropped from Wynon’s overly honest ones to the drink. Time for indecision ended, Amy must trust this strange girl, the alternative became too horrible to contemplate.
Nodding past her fear she let Wynon guide the goblet to her lips until she drank it all. The drug, swift to act, left Amy helpless as Wynon gently eased her back into the furs. “I gave ye a strong dose, ye won’t come out of it for a least a day--sleep my lady--he won’t touch ye, I swear.”
The gentle words guided her into the peaceful darkness Amy gave herself over to.
“Dream of ye Lord and pray he comes in time.”
CHAPTER 8
Bern spurred his horse over to the next man. With a regretful shake of his head Bern faced the dreaded answers. “Damn him to hell!”
Humbolt escaped the attack, his carcass was missing from the dead, deepening the lines of rage across Bern’s face.
“Bern over here!”
Spinning about at Craig’s call from the next hill Bern raced to join him. “‘Tis it him?”
“Nay Bern, the old man. He’s over there where their camp used to be.”
Dismounting, Bern held his fierce rage intact by a thread as he walked over to the body. With his foot he flipped the old Captain over onto his back. “He deserved to die for betraying her!”
“We found their tracks, he headed north.”
“Any survivors?”
“None that can tell us anything. Humbolt’s land are west of here, why would he go North?”
After two days of battling Humbolt’s army, since he first discovered her abduction, Bern didn’t like the suspicion taking hold of him. “Barrington--the King’s nephew, he is in the north.”
Craig couldn’t’ stand what he felt Bern was contemplating. “Ye can’t go there man, it would be suicide.”
Did he have a life without her? Bern didn’t need to hear what he felt in his heart. “Ready the men,
Craig.”
“Damn it Bern, think what you are doing! That bastard would like nothing better than to drive his blade through your heart.”
“Aye, no more than my own wants to tear his from that traitorous soul.”
“Let it go, Bern.”
He turned away from his friend. “We leave on the hour.”
Craig called after him, but Bern took up his mounts reins and walked away, needing solitude before their leave. Each step he cursed the bastard that eluded his attack by leaving his men to fight in his stead, while he ran away with Amy.
He thought of nothing else but her since finding his men slain before her chamber. “I swear lass I will find ye, so help me. I’ll come for ye.” His anguished vow went out across the bloody battlefield. Bern’s body rocked under the fears he held for her, his eyes squeezed shut against the pain he realized she would suffer before he reached her. If he failed her Bern knew he’d not survive, not when he felt every ounce of her fear in every breath he drew. “I will kill him.”
* * * *
“You fool! Do you realize what you have brought to my door? Do you?” Barrington walked around Humbolt and wondered how much trouble he would get into if he killed him. “Bern Randall, you are mad to think he won’t be on your heals.”
“Cousin…”
Richard held up his hand and stopped any further pleading. “No, I will not fight your battle and certainly not one over a woman. Bern’s woman! I have half a mind to toss your ass out of the keep!”
“You cannot do that, Richard.”
“Can’t I? Better, I will let him take you off my hands. I’ve always coveted your lands--cousin.”
For the first time Peter actual felt a shiver race up his spine. His cousin looked enraged with him. He never saw Richard turn away from a fight, but then this was Bern. “I will leave at dawn.”
“Why not now, he will probably be here at dawn. Then I will have to lie for you, maybe fight for you and I do not like you enough to die for you. Peter, did you bother to think this through? They announced their vows over a month ago, my father’s council attended their engagement party. You have stolen the man’s bride.”
“They are not married.”