Her Dark Knight's Redemption

by Nicole Locke

  ‘I’m glad I had the food prepared,’ Balthus said behind him. ‘It seems we’ll need every bit of it now.’

  Swiftly, Reynold stepped between Balthus and Aliette.

  ‘I’m his younger brother, Balthus.’

  Reynold watched the silent interplay between his brother and Aliette. Both wary, both with their chins determined. Then Aliette smiled and Balthus just looked flummoxed. He knew that feeling well.

  Everything about her demeanour was warm and friendly, but he felt her ire directed towards him all the same.

  ‘It’s nice to meet you, Balthus.’ She rubbed a hand against his daughter’s back to ease the hiccups. ‘I’m Aliette and this is Grace. Behind us are Vernon, Helewise, Gabriel. Oh, and I’m sure you’ll meet the men.’

  Reynold looked to a man he shouldn’t trust, to a woman he’d lay his life down for. For once, he felt as if the wings he made, which had failed him over and over, were finally and completely perfectly formed. Because within his reach was more than he ever dreamed of—his wings could withstand any upcoming storm.

  He turned to Balthus. ‘Well, my Brother, it appears we have much to catch up on.’

  His brother’s eyes sheened with understanding. ‘So simple.’

  ‘Not simple,’ Reynold said with echoes of a recent conversation in his mind. ‘Extremely complicated. But I should let you know I’ve become rather fond of complications.’

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  ‘You’re starving,’ Reynold said behind her.

  ‘I couldn’t eat,’ Aliette replied, knowing she’d never said those words before in her life. But so many things had changed since she’d met this man who wasn’t as dark as the night sky she now stared out at for answers.

  Unlike the windows downstairs, these windows were only shuttered, and she threw them open while Grace slowly fell asleep in her basket.

  The private rooms were more spacious than the fortress in Paris. It felt like home though she could see the strength of the gates and walls surrounding, and the land outside had been maintained for optimal protection.

  ‘You’re—angry with me,’ Reynold said.

  ‘Furious,’ she said refusing to turn around to acknowledge him in any way. She’d been hurt when he rode off without her. She thought she’d made it clear he wasn’t to take the road alone again.

  She wanted to follow him immediately, but they had to wait for the arrival of her family and the rest of the mercenaries. What Aliette hadn’t expected was an inconsolable Grace and a worn-out Helewise and Vernon who had been caring for the child. The cries had broken her heart. But when Grace placed her hand on Aliette’s cheek and started wording sounds in a voice so pitiful, she cried. This child could speak—she could talk and hear. She just needed her father.

  ‘Why?’

  ‘So many books from great thinkers and you cannot guess?’

  ‘You weren’t angry when I left,’ he said. ‘So I can only surmise you’re angry because I did.’

  ‘Aren’t you clever?’

  Utter silence except the sounds of the great banquet in the Hall below which were muffled through the thick oak doors. What could be heard was much laughter as the flagons of wine that Reynold authorised were poured.

  ‘Turn around and face me,’ he said.

  ‘No.’

  He gave some growl of displeasure. She ignored that as well. He had done plenty of deeds she wasn’t pleased with.

  ‘Is it because I left and you think I abandoned you like your parents?’ he said. ‘You compare me to them? Why am I not surprised! It was my duty to face him. Not you, not anyone else.’

  They had already talked of this and he truly didn’t understand. ‘There’s a part of me that was hurt terribly when my parents rejected me and there is a part of me that feels unworthy. But it goes further than that. It’s not up to you to decide what’s best for me. I am no child. You don’t own me, you never will. I had hoped that we could be partners, but you are not prepared to do the hard thing. To take the leap of faith.’

  ‘Please turn, Aliette.’

  She shook her head. Face Darkness and his eddying gaze? She had no strength against it and she needed to bend him to her this time. She’d argued with him, faced him, struck him. She’d shared her body and her trust, and he still rode away from her.

  ‘I’m trying to protect you. That man could have killed you.’

  ‘He could have killed you,’ she said.

  ‘Then you would have been well cared for...and safe.’

  At that she turned and faced Darkness. It was all there before her. Tall. Arrogant. The swathe of his dark hair, the long lashes that shaded his very knowing eyes.

  But this time, he didn’t know.

  ‘No, Reynold, if something happened to you, I would not have been well cared for or safe. You would have left me in the worst possible way. I could never recover if I had an ounce of changing your deeds and you took that ability away. You left me behind...for you so that you can do some duty, fulfil some vow you made. I can’t trust you if you think you know what’s better. If you don’t trust me.’

  A flexing of his burned hand. ‘It’s a game. That’s all. One I intend to finish.’

  ‘But if you don’t stop this, your deeds will get you killed.’

  ‘I’m not dead, I don’t intend to be killed. So nothing is wrong.’

  ‘All those books and opinions and you can’t see how false that statement is. I won’t be dictated to again. You can’t force me on to whatever path you’re on.’

  ‘I can’t stop this game. It began long before I was born—I can only win it.’

  ‘Then let me and my family go.’

  He paled, took a step back, another. His steady gaze suddenly tremulous. His shoulders slumped, his stomach curved in as if she swiped a blade at him and he dodged it. As if she was on the attack and she was.

  ‘Balthus already knows she’s your child. He heard you ask to hold her. You don’t need me for your ruse anymore. And it’ll be safer for me and my family to leave. You and Grace are the target. I have no consequence to your family at all.’

  ‘Of course.’ Reynold swallowed hard, another step back until his hand was on the latch. ‘It is for the best that you leave. You can...go. Perhaps partake of some food tonight and I’ll arrange matters for you to leave in the morning.’

  Aliette stared at the man who had once frightened her. Who had manipulated, deceived and hadn’t placed his trust in her. She looked at Darkness, who was now giving her the freedom to choose.

  ‘What are you doing?’ he said.

  ‘I’m sitting.’

  ‘I agreed that you are no longer captive.’

  ‘I’m not going to be dictated to by you, Reynold. Balthus doesn’t act like your enemy.’

  His eyes darted to her, to another chair and he walked slowly to it. All the aspects of his elegance were there, but the arrogance was gone, humbled. It was that vulnerability which gave her hope.

  ‘He doesn’t,’ he said. ‘But we haven’t had time to talk. He isn’t safe—I cannot trust him. It was his men who attacked our camp.’

  ‘And now he eats at your table.’

  Entering the courtyard, seeing Reynold, then a man approach behind him. Younger, but so similar. Aliette knew who he was.

  But he wasn’t who she expected, not after Reynold’s depiction of his family. Because the man who stood just behind Darkness was as torn and conflicted a man as she’d ever seen. In that she wanted to forgive him, to give him and Reynold a chance.

  ‘I don’t understand this,’ he said. ‘Why are you not leaving?’

  ‘I’m listening to you, Reynold. That is all.’

  ‘I don’t explain my deeds to anyone, Aliette.’

  She crossed her arms.

  ‘You want my feelings?’ he said. ‘I don’t acknowledge
my feelings even to myself. But I can tell you of my helplessness, knowing you rode into that courtyard full of my enemies. That you exposed yourself to someone I hid from all my life because it is right to fear them!’

  ‘I won’t let you do this alone. I’m not going anywhere.’

  ‘And so that is it? You’re staying?’

  ‘That depends on you and what you’re not telling me.’

  ‘Why are you demanding this of me?’

  ‘It’s my choice to listen to you, just as it’s your choice to tell me what happened between you and your family,’ she said. ‘No one demanding or dictating what they think is best for the other. I think this is how we can trust each other.’

  He curled his fist. ‘This is not simple. This is far more gruelling than you can guess. Once you know what I do, there is no going back to anything simple.’

  ‘Perhaps so. But that should be my choice, too.’ Gone was the superiority—Reynold looked wrecked. So close and they could have what she thought was there. Their connection from the pain in the past could only strengthen with what they must face in the future. She didn’t doubt Reynold’s family was his enemy. She just needed him to understand she’d be there beside him for it. He needed to tell her.

  ‘Tell me, Darkness. Make the choice to trust me. To choose...us.’

  He bowed his head, clenched his eyes tight. She waited. This time she knew she’d wait as long as it took because if there were slivers and cracks in her defences, he had them, too. She simply needed to wait until he could show her what was behind them.

  ‘My parents are motivated by wealth, by power.’ His words spilled out as if torn from him. ‘Far more than I know certain monarchs are. I can’t explain their cruelty any more than you can explain your parents abandoning you. But entire towns have been massacred because they whispered in the king’s ear. I wouldn’t be surprised if his unnatural hatred towards the Scots was because they want to divide England’s attention. To make France stronger.

  ‘As many books as I’ve read, as many years I’ve survived, the answer why they do the things they do continues to elude me. I only can explain the outcomes.

  ‘That to gain the wealth and power they require it goes beyond mere chests of sequestered gold—it goes to something called the Jewel of Kings.’

  He paused then as if expecting a reaction. She couldn’t give it. Nothing of what he said was familiar.

  ‘You don’t know it.’ She shook her head, and he continued, ‘It exists as an oblong gem the size of a duck’s egg, but it’s hidden inside the hollow handle of an ornate dagger with scrollwork and gems.’

  She shrugged. ‘Don’t they have enough treasures?’

  ‘It’s not the gems or the silver. It’s what the gem represents. It’s a legend that whoever—’

  ‘Holds the gem, holds the power of Scotland.’

  ‘You do know it.’

  ‘Like people know of King Arthur and Camelot. The Jewel is Excalibur. But it’s a symbol and doesn’t exist.’ She remembered this now. ‘Vernon, Helewise’s husband, likes stories.’

  Reynold’s lips curved. ‘The Jewel of Kings is real and my parents want that power.’

  ‘It’s real...then for what purpose?’

  ‘To rule over England and Scotland at the very least. They have resources. An Englishman with some cunning and a great network of hired thieves. A Scottish clan who accidentally got hold of it, but only have the gem now and not the dagger. Both are needed to win the game.’

  ‘I thought it was the gem that was the Jewel of Kings.’

  ‘It is, but combine it with the dagger and...’

  ‘Tell me.’

  ‘I have told no one. This is not easy.’

  ‘It’s not supposed to be,’ she said as gently as she could.

  ‘It’s my love of books, cartularies, my curiosity. I’ve scavenged the deepest bowels of churches, stolen fragments of parchment. Over the years, I’ve pieced it all together. Combined, I believe the dagger and gem point to a treasure great enough to buy countries. I believe that’s where the legend of Scotland came about.’

  ‘Do your parents know this?’

  ‘No. And as far as I know, neither does Balthus.’

  ‘But he will,’ she said. ‘Because you’ll tell him.’

  ‘I can’t trust him. Not after all these years. And I won’t trust him because it wouldn’t be right by you, Grace, the others. I wouldn’t be protecting you the way I should if I turned my back on a Warstone.’

  And yet... ‘But it would be right by you to do it. If you gave him trust. If he was treated as you were, you’ll both be wary of each other. But that doesn’t mean you can’t try.’

  He shook his head. ‘The power and wealth the jewel represents would turn a priest into a murderer. Warstones are already murderers. It’s in our blood.’

  ‘No, it’s not. I know the man you are.’

  His brows drew in. ‘Don’t trust me. You know some, but not all. The plots I’ve done, the lives I’ve meddled in. Some were good people, too.’

  ‘You’ve lied to me, kidnapped me, but—’

  ‘I raised a blade to Grace’s mother intent on killing her though I’m her father.’

  ‘I know. We all know. It’s not because of your hair or eyes. It’s how you look at Grace. As if she’s every sunrise and sunset. You look at your daughter, as I wished, as every child wishes, her father looked at her. We all know the truth.’

  He closed his eyes. ‘I was cruel telling you about Grace’s mother.’ In truth, he’d displayed a callousness he didn’t feel. Could she sense it?

  ‘Cruel...but you didn’t lie to me how you killed that night or that you left her body.’

  He shook his head. ‘If I had done any different, the guards could have asked questions, tried to find a murderer. I couldn’t allow anyone to find us.’

  She gazed at the child asleep in the basket. Knew she wouldn’t fit in there forever, but would always fit in her arms. Whatever was in Grace’s past, Aliette vowed she’d face as well. For her and Reynold’s sake.

  ‘Who was her mother?’

  ‘You and your important questions. Does it matter? I did not honour her as I should. My daughter will never forgive me.’

  ‘What was she like?’

  ‘She was a handmaiden from court.’

  His eyes still closed, his expression telling her his thoughts were far away.

  ‘Is this part of your game? Did you want to kill her because she intended to tell someone?’

  He opened his eyes and pinned her with his gaze. ‘Why are you asking these questions? What does it matter? I’ve killed hundreds in my games and I’ve killed hundreds more just because.’

  ‘You taught me to read.’

  ‘I don’t see—’

  ‘Then you taught me to question what I read. It is only natural for me to question you as well. I think you had a reason to kill her and it wasn’t for your games.’

  ‘Believe what you want.’

  ‘Oh, I will. Because you tried not killing the servant, or Grace’s mother. Their deaths meant something to you. Why? Was Grace in the room? I’ve seen how you hold her, Reynold. I know you love her.’

  ‘I do.’

  ‘Then why did you raise your weapon to her mother?’

  As if he was helpless to, he took the steps necessary to crouch at his daughter’s basket. To feather her dark hair away from her cheek. She moved restlessly and he stopped, gripped the basket’s edge.

  ‘She asked me to,’ he whispered. ‘She was dying. No healer, not even God, could save her.’

  ‘You were there and she looked on you for mercy.’

  ‘She asked for mercy, but my hand, it trembled. Grace was in the room, I tried to kill the servant, but couldn’t. I was going to fail Grace’s mother as well...’

  �
��No silence now, please,’ she said.

  ‘She died before I could strike. I couldn’t even give her that final mercy. I needed to—’

  She couldn’t hear any more of his words. ‘Protect Grace. And you have. You kidnapped me. You’ve done everything you could.’

  ‘Look what further destruction I brought.’

  She pointed to the child sleeping. ‘Look what joy you brought. You told me once your life wasn’t abundant, that the stories were all you had. I want more for you.’

  ‘The stories saved me because they showed me there could be something else. When I’m with you, I hope for our own story, but... Ian or my parents are out there. Grace will ask questions.’

  ‘You can’t keep thinking you know best and protect me or her. And you shouldn’t bear the brunt of all the pain and misery of this game.’

  ‘I deserve to.’

  ‘No one deserves to. No one deserves punishment, or judgement or guilt. What we do deserve is love.’

  ‘What would you know of it?’ Reynold stood, stepped away from the basket and walked to the opened window.

  He was hurting. That was why his words stung. How often must he have talked this way to others to protect and hide. She wouldn’t let him anymore because she had seen his deeds.

  ‘You’re not the only one who observes,’ she said. ‘I watched Vernon and Helewise. I recognised what they had.’

  ‘And now you feel love with them. With Gabriel.’

  ‘I care for them. But... I never belonged. I always felt I forced myself on them. Like a piece of a game that tried to fit to another puzzle. But my jagged bits inside me never fit with them. I’m lucky that they let me take care of them. And we all care for each other very much. But if it came to Vernon saving my life over Helewise, I know whom he would choose.’

  ‘What of Gabriel? He needs you. He comes to you when he’s hurt. He goes to Helewise when he’s hurt.’

  ‘He comes to me for necessary things. I don’t know if Gabriel is capable of love anymore...though I hope he can. His parents’ death wounded him. And as much care as Helewise and I have lavished on him, I wonder if there’s a stitch or a patch that can ever heal him. I think he has to find his own puzzle someday.’