by Rose, Renee
“To Wellridge Castle.”
“The Duke of Wellridge,” Crow said, his voice seething with hate.
“Aye. I was his captive. Once he discovered I spoke his language, he thought to keep me for long-term pleasure.”
“Did he─?”
“Aye,” she cut in, her expression shamed.
Crow pulled her in for another embrace. “This dishonor is all his and I will make him pay for it. How did you get away?”
“King Broderick arrived this morning and demanded the release of all the captives by threat of his sword. Wellridge let us go and Broderick's men escorted us back to the settlement.”
“But the duke lives?”
“Aye.”
“He will not live past the morrow, you have my word,” Crow vowed between clenched teeth. He held the shoulders of the lovely woman, his back to the door where she stood. She pushed the door open a little further, her stomach a tight fist. She ought to rejoice–the Saxon captives were free, which should mean Crow would release her. Instead she only focused on the woman. Was she Crow’s wife? Lover?
The young woman caught sight of her and gaped. Crow whirled, using his body to shield the woman from her view.
The woman pushed past. “What have you done, Crow?” she whispered, looking horrified.
“Do not show her your face, for the Goddess’s sake!” he cried, throwing his hands in the air. “And you were meant to stay in the room,” he said, turning his focus on her. “I must be cursed if I cannot handle two small women,” he said with exasperation.
“Please forgive my brother,” the woman begged, bending low with reverence. “He is not a bad man. He honors the Goddess and the king.”
“Your brother?” she repeated, her belly unknotting.
A twig snapped just outside the window and Crow drew his sword. “They followed you from the settlement!”
She listened and sensed her twin’s presence. “Broderick has come for me.”
Crow shoved his sister in the direction of the back room. “Go,” he whispered. “Elric, go,” he pointed. “There’s a cellar door under the pallet. Hide yourselves until they have gone.”
His sister’s face contorted in terror. “No, Crow!”
Oddly, her own terror mirrored Crow’s sister’s. She did not want him to die.
“Now!” he hissed.
“You, too,” she said. “You hide, too, Crow.”
He stared at her, a question in his eyes. She nodded, solemnly. He wasted no time, dropping his sword into the scabbard, rushing into the room, throwing the pallet aside and opening the trap door. He grabbed Elric and tossed him down, then Kendra. Pulling his dagger from his belt, he slashed the binds on her wrists.
“Thank you, Ariana,” he said solemnly, before dropping into the cellar and pulling the door down behind him.
Her ears ringing with the sound of her name on his lips, she pushed the pallet back over the trap door, just as the front door came crashing in. She rushed out with a scream, causing all the soldiers to slow their movements in caution. Broderick entered, looking fearsome. She threw herself at him and found herself lifted in an embrace, just as Crow had lifted his lost sister.
“Ariana! Are you well?”
“Aye.”
“Where are they?” he demanded, looking around, his soldiers returning from the back room with a shake of their heads.
“Gone. They cut me free and left as soon as their captives were returned.”
“Search the perimeter!” Broderick strode to the back room and stood, looking around with narrowed eyes.
She trailed behind him, rubbing her aching wrists to get the blood flow back to her hands.
“You’re lying,” Broderick accused. “Where are they?”
Her nose began to burn, pressure building behind her eyes.
“Why are you protecting him?”
“I just want to go home, Broderick,” she said, tears starting to flow down her face. Whether they were for relief at finally being free, or tension over Crow’s fate, she could not say.
Broderick’s face softened and he opened his arms for her again. “Do not cry, Ariana. I hate it when you cry.”
“I know,” she sniffed. “Please take me home?”
He pulled her from his chest and peered at her. “Did he hurt you?”
She shook her head. “Please?”
He sighed, looking exasperated. “As you wish.”
****
He gripped the handle of his sword, his palms sweating. If Broderick caught them, he would offer his surrender in exchange for the release of Kendra and Elric. He stood in the pitch black of the cellar, listening to the king and Ariana.
Why are you protecting him?
Why indeed? She had shielded him from capture and certain death, when he deserved nothing but her spite. His chest burned with emotion–gratitude, overlaid with pain. Regret washed over him like water wearing down a stone. He had made an egregious mistake kidnapping Ariana–King Broderick had not been responsible for the sacking of the settlement or Kendra’s disappearance. Even if he had, Ariana should not have suffered for it.
The three of them stood, listening to the sounds of the men’s voices as they searched the area, the stomping of boots echoing overhead, the shouts from outside carrying to their hiding place. It seemed an eternity before the sound of hoof beats came, followed by silence.
Kendra shifted, but he put an arm on her shoulder, holding her still for another agonizing hour. They could be lying in wait for them to emerge. At last he crept out first to check, and finding no one, helped Elric and Kendra out of the hiding place, and returned with them to the settlement on foot, as the soldiers had taken his mount. Once there, they left Elric and went to Kendra’s little hut. Her husband had died nearly a year ago, leaving her alone in the settlement. Not that a woman as beautiful as she did not have suitors, but she had not taken an interest and the men had given her time.
“Gather your things: I fear it will not be safe for you to stay here.”
“Do you think the duke will come back?” Her voice cracked, but she kept busy, chopping vegetables into a pot for their supper.
“Oh aye, I think he must wish to claim this land for Wellridge, but I will kill him before he can try. Nay, it is not him who might threaten your safety.”
She looked at him, eyes round. “The king will hunt you.”
“Aye,” he said, blowing out his breath. “I fear as long as I live, you will not be safe.”
“I should not have shown my face,” she said, as if just realizing why he had admonished her at the time.
“Nay, it was not your fault. The king saw you in Wellridge and followed you to me. Showing your face to the princess was not the damage.”
“Where will I go?”
“I will take you to Sir William’s house. He will protect you until I can get things sorted out. He has a wife and children so it will not be unseemly.”
She nodded, looking pale. “Do you think you can defeat Wellridge?” Kendra asked as they walked in the darkness. “It seemed well-protected to me.”
“No. I do not wish to risk the lives of my troop. They have given enough fighting against their king. I will go alone and slay him in the night in his bed. It lacks honor, but I care not.” He scowled. “He does not deserve to be treated honorably, nor does his conduct call upon my honor in his treatment.”
Kendra’s eyes deadened and she slumped in a chair by the fire, stirring the food in the pot.
“Tell me.”
She lifted her gaze, looking unsure.
“Tell me,” he coaxed. “It will be better to have it spoken of between us.”
She swallowed and turned to the fire, speaking with her back to him. “When they came, we were unprepared–we had no time to evacuate women and children. One moment it was quiet, in the next there were three dozen men on horses wrecking the village. I used my bow and arrow, felling one.” She looked at him then, acknowledging the difficulty of her first kill.
He had taught her to shoot from the time she was small and she was as good a hunter as any man, but had never had reason to shoot another person before.
“Well done, Kendra. You were brave,” he praised her like he would honor any squire to help them past the trauma of taking life.
She turned back to the fire. “I saw him not, but suddenly I was yanked atop a horse. When I struggled, a man pressed a dagger blade into my ribs.”
“The duke?”
“Aye.”
“When I cursed him in his own tongue, he began to laugh, shouting ‘This one speaks our language! I think I shall bring her home to serve at Wellridge.’ They killed so many,” she said, stopping as the tears choked her voice. “And the rest were rounded up. I think once he decided to take me, he thought he might take us all to use as slaves.”
He wanted to pound the table with his fist and curse, but he kept himself calm. It was more important for Kendra to talk about it.
“At Wellridge, the rest were brought to the dungeons. I think he realized it would be too difficult to control them all as slaves, so he kept only me in the main castle.”
He waited, saying nothing. Waited for the difficult part.
“He took me straight to his chambers. The duchess was furious, following along, demanding to know what he thought he was doing, but he slapped her and told her to go back to the great room, and he would use her when he was ready for her.”
Still he said nothing, keeping his face an even mask.
“He took me in his chamber. I did not fight it,” she said, a sob breaking free from her throat.
He stayed perfectly still, though his urge was to stand and pull her into an embrace. But he wanted her to speak it all, without his pity making her feel worse. “Of course you did not fight it: You would have been beaten or killed. You were right, Kendra.” When she lifted her eyes, questioning, he nodded emphatically. “You were right,” he said firmly. His words seemed to help her, because she recovered her voice and the tears slowed.
“When he was through, he sent me to the kitchen to help. Some of the other men saw me and thought to have their fun, too, but I insisted the duke would punish them–that he wanted to keep me only for himself, and they seemed scared enough of him to leave me alone. No one paid me any mind in the kitchens, so I slipped out, trying to find my way past the outer wall, but the guards outside hauled me back in and the duke whipped me.”
He clenched and unclenched his fists.
“It was not so terrible, really,” she said, wiping her tears. “I was like any servant, except that the duke used me every time he thought of it. But otherwise I was fed properly and could walk about freely in the castle, unlike the rest of our clan.”
“And then this morning the king arrived, unannounced. He said he had not authorized the taking of Saxon slaves in his kingdom and he required the duke to release them. The duke was furious, but he could not deny it, as the king had already asked at the gates and been told we were there.
“I rushed forward straight away, lest I be left behind or kept back by the duke. I curtsied to the king and said ‘I thank you, on behalf of my people.’ He asked my name and asked me to verify the names of all the prisoners. You had given a list?”
He nodded. “Aye. I had Elric name everyone who was missing.”
She sighed. “I did not know of your ransom, of course. I let them escort us all the way home, and of course they waited to follow when Elric brought me to you.”
“You made no mistake, Kendra. I erred in asking ransom of the king, instead of the duke. But I intend to rectify my misjudgment.”
“I know your intentions for the duke, but how will you make amends to the princess?”
His heart constricted. “I know not,” he said, his voice sounding hoarse. “But I will do so.”
****
“You never heard a name, only ‘Crow?’
She nodded listlessly. She had tried to avoid Broderick’s interrogation, but he was single-minded in purpose. “Only Crow. He was marked by initiation with the crow.”
“At Avalon?”
She nodded.
“That sounds familiar,” said Sir Jeffrey. “Is there not a mercenary knight whose men call him Crow? He has fought with you, my lord, I am sure of it. If I recall, they say he is impossible to kill.”
“I shall see about that,” Broderick said.
“It is because he cares little for his life,” she said.
Broderick eyed her, trying to decipher her meaning. “He fights without fear?”
She nodded. “That is my guess.” She shrugged. “I have not seen him fight, but he struck me as a man prepared to meet death at any moment.”
“What else? Who was the boy? His son?”
She stilled. She had not considered Elric could be Crow’s son. But no, he would not call him “sir” if he were a son. “No, a page.”
“And his woman?”
She opened her mouth to correct him, but thought better of it. She did not understand herself why she had kept Broderick from finding Crow, but her instinct to shield him still held.
“Search the settlement for her again tomorrow,” Broderick commanded Jeffrey.
“I wish to return to Avalon.”
“You will go when I give you leave,” Broderick said.
Though they were twins, they were not raised equally. Their parents raised Broderick to be king, and expected her to serve him and the throne, with her second sight to guide his rule, with her obedience, with her maidenhead when she was betrothed for political strategy. Even so, she rarely took it kindly when he flexed his authority on her, knowing him too well to feel reverence for him or his station.
She hid her irritation because they were not alone. Being her twin, Broderick understood they were to have words. “Leave us,” he commanded his knights. They filed out of the throne room. She stood as well, but Broderick pointed at her. “Sit.”
“My lord,” she said, unable to keep slight sarcasm from her tone. “I am not fit for our discussion.” She showed her wrists still chafed from the sennight of being bound. “I have been through enough without discussing it all night with you.”
He ignored her protests. “Did he have his way with you?”
“No!” She flushed. “He was quite chivalrous,” she insisted. Except her thoughts jumped to the night he had stroked her sex in his fevered delirium and her face grew hotter.
“Did he hurt you?”
To cover her fluster over his previous question, she answered this one truthfully. “He whipped me when I stabbed his face with an eating knife.”
Broderick’s jaw went hard and he fingered the hilt of his sword. “My sister is not whipped like a slave! He will suffer greatly before I allow him the privilege of death.”
She turned her face from him, knowing there would be no arguing. He would have his revenge for the injustice and insult that had been done to him–it had nothing to do with her.
He walked around to see her face. “Why did you hide them, Rie?” he said, calling her by the childhood nickname he had for her, dubbed before he could properly pronounce “Ariana”.
She shook her head, closing her eyes. “I know not,” she said, feeling weary.
“You grew attached to him, after living so closely for a sennight.”
“Mayhap. Aye, I think you are right. I did not wish to see him die.”
“You will not have to watch,” he said as if granting her a boon.
Her heart thundered in her chest. “May I go?”
“Go,” he said. “To bed–not to Avalon. I wish you to remain a few days in case we need questions answered as we search.”
She sighed and left without speaking.
Three days later, Broderick called her into the throne room. “The Duke of Wellridge was found murdered in his bed yesterday morning,” Broderick said, watching her closely. “Do you suppose it was your Crow who did it?”
She shrugged. “Probably. The duke captured and raped his sister. Is that not t
he justice you would demand for such a crime?”
“He is no different from the duke.”
An irrational urge to defend him rose up. “He did not rape me, Broderick,” she snapped. Her tone and lack of appropriate address raised some heads in the room. She held her chin high.
“I am not your enemy,” he said, watching her with narrowed eyes.
Her shoulders sagged. “I know. Forgive me. I do not like to think on any of it. I should prefer to forget it all.”
Broderick nodded, but she had a feeling he saw through her. “Go then, to Avalon. Let your sisters give you the comfort I cannot.”
She curtsied. “Thank you, brother.”
She left, her belly churning with unease. Broderick would find Crow, and when he did, he would make him suffer. Try though she might to feel vindication, it only made her sick.
Chapter Five
He could not think of a way to amend things with the king or his lovely sister. He spent six weeks skulking around the druid’s territory, staring across the lake at Avalon, never daring to approach–not for fear he would be caught, more because he could not conceive of what he might say to her if he was. In fact, he started to wish he might be caught, yet without a plan for redeeming himself, he found that foolhardy.
Somehow he found himself entering the annual tournament at Stonecroft, just for the chance to catch sight of her. He went through the games mindlessly, his gaze always drawn to the royal dais where she sat, her red-blonde hair uncovered, gleaming in the sunlight. She had blessed the games before they began, wearing the same simple blue wool gown he had divested her of the day he abducted her. Raising her arms wide to the crowd, she spoke words he could not hear, but the hush fell over the throng as they accepted her blessing.
She was powerful, more powerful, mayhap than she realized.
And he loved her. Of that he was certain. And mayhap because of the direction of his heart, nothing else seemed clear to him. He needed to act, to do something to free Kendra from her hiding, so she could go on with her life.
He moved through the trials of the tournament, hardly noticing the competition, his mind traveling the well-worn path of what to do. He certainly did not mean to win the games.
