The Northern Knights Series (Boxed Set)

by Amber Dane

  She paused and quickly pretended to see to the nearest person at her right. The body was that of a woman and Caroline bent and pulled the shawl up over the woman’s bare unmoving shoulder.

  Caroline moved her lips as though she were speaking to the sleeping woman. The woman faced away from the guards so they could not see that she slept. Soon they turned their attention elsewhere. With a sigh of relief, Caroline straightened her own torn bodice and moved to rise when a deep masculine voice came at her back.

  ‘You some sort of witch that talks to the dead to bring them back to life, demoiselle?’

  Caroline, still on her haunches, turned and took in lean and muscular thighs, encased in black fitted breeches, leather ties, a long mail tunic, a long Norman sword hung at his side and up a wall of chest to that thin mouth that seemed eerily familiar. His cloak was fastened with a brooch over his right shoulder. The mean looking, jagged scar and those piercing magnetic blue eyes- God’s mercy!

  ‘Twas him!

  He’d removed his helm and it sat in the crook of his arm. Dark hair lay in the shape of it surrounded his sharp-boned face and stray strands fell down the back of his thick neck, past his vast shoulders. Shadows of beard growth barely there covered his face. Odd Caroline thought that she’d not noticed that when she’d assessed him down in the yard. His hideous scar and eyes had captured her attention then as they did now.

  Cold fear swept over her and she rose on shaky legs. He followed her every move. His watchful and intense gaze caused her to shake even more.

  ‘Ah. You pretend not to understand me now, is that the way you wish to play it? So be it. Matters not. I am curious still. Talking to the dead. What sort of conversation could that behold? One of great interest I would imagine. Please, do share it with me.’

  Anger sparked in her. He was mocking her. He had spoken to her in his tongue and now, he had switched over easily to hers. His thick accent made his words hard to understand at first but she knew most of them. Caroline sighed with disgust. He wanted to make sure she understood every word. She realized too late her mistake in reacting to him. No matter. She had to do what she must.

  The look and sardonic grin on his chiseled face told her he knew that she understood him. She was in no mood to play games with this man. She needed to get to her son.

  Caroline spoke before she thought. ‘Dead or alive. The conversation would be too intelligent for you to swallow, you Norman mongrel.’

  The man did not even flinch. But something dark shifted in those blue all-seeing eyes as he circled her slowly, his one hand latched onto the hilt of his sword. The way he walked closely around her, less than a hairs breadth betwixt them, curled a finger of cold alarm inside her gut and rattled her already frazzled nerves.

  ‘Hmm…You did not realize she was dead, did you?’ his lips pulled back into a taunting grin and his eyes glinted under dark arched brows. The amusement in his tone did not reach the dangerous gleam in those eyes of his, nor his intimidating stance.

  Caroline felt the color drain from her face and her eyes shot back down to the woman in horror and sadness. Clutching her hands against her tattered gown, she shivered and immediately crossed herself and said a hasty prayer for the woman’s poor soul. She ended her blessing and muttered, ‘Death of the innocent. She did not deserve this.’

  ‘Who is to say who does or does not deserve death? Everyone must die sooner or later, demoiselle. No one is spared from that fate.’

  His indifferent tone infuriated her and fear, she knew, is what made her blurt out, ‘Not by a merciless Norman blade!’

  His hand moved from his sword to press over his heart in a closed fist, a wounded expression spread across his face. ‘Demoiselle, I swear to you it was not my blade. How do you know it was not a Saxon one? Caught in the melee she could have been. What know you of how she came to meet her end? Careful where you lay your blame.’

  ‘You are a cruel man.’ Caroline declared with labored breath.

  ‘Do you know me?’

  He stopped circling her and she stopped breathing. She swallowed and barely managed to shake her head. His aim was to frighten her and he was, but she need not let him know it.

  She cleared her throat. ‘I don’t need to know you to see you are a man that knows naught of humanity and dignity, like your king. The bloodshed here today is proof enough of that.’

  He towered over her, his face darkening further as anger sprang to life in his eyes. ‘Ah, that’s right, us vicious and savage Normans attack without cause or reason and lest we forget, we are all heartless.’

  ‘Aye.’

  ‘If your lord had seen fit to submit to William peacefully when he’d been given leave to do so, mayhap the grace of leniency would have been shown to all and today would not have happened. Now, is there more you need explained to you?’

  Caroline knew he was toying with her. ‘Nay, for only lies fall from your Norman lips.’

  ‘Ah, disgust. You are not the first to hate a Norman. Nor will you be the last. What you feel is insignificant to me.’ He watched her eyes blaze with her fury at his words.

  ‘I hate no one.’

  ‘Hmm. My mistake then if your behavior and insults speak otherwise.’

  ‘I only detest the ways of some men.’ She arched a brow and gave him a head to toe look before locking gazes with him again. ‘Think you one act proves you are a kind man? I think not.’

  He scoffed. ‘I can return you to the tower chamber and have the men continue where they left off if that is what you wish. All you need do is but ask, demoiselle.’

  She blanched and blew out a hot breath. ‘My point proven. Norman bastard.’

  ‘Saxon bitch.’

  That had the red seep into the skin of her neck as she huffed and all but stamped her foot, her chest heaving. ‘Wretch. Trained well you Norman warriors might be, but mercy you know not the meaning.’

  ‘No more than your dead King Harold did.’

  She stood so still he thought for a moment she might leap at him, her hands clutched at her tattered gown so tightly. Though she said nothing her guarded gaze remained fixed on him. He returned her look as his annoyance rose. Her ilk had gotten under his skin.

  He scratched at his bearded chin and those penetrating eyes disturbed her. Caroline watched him back but he only smiled as if he knew something she did not. That he had the nerve to find something amusing with so many dead around them unnerved her.

  Only someone cold and unfeeling could do such a thing she thought. Caroline swallowed as his eyes burned hotly into hers.

  He clasped his hands behind his back and began to circle her again. Her breath quickened. When he spoke again, she jumped. ‘You have witnessed what has happened here, yet you do not take care with what you say. And to whom. It would be wise to curb your tongue.’

  Her eyes narrowed on him warily at his threat and she could not stop herself from keeping her mouth shut nor keep the thick loathing from her tone. She asked, ‘What do you seek?’

  ‘Headstrong, with a brave whip of tongue can mean trouble, demoiselle. Fine clothes you wear for a maid, serf or possibly Halvard’s leman…’

  Caroline clamped her mouth shut on a heated retort. The man’s lips curled even further into a sneer, but those magnetic piercing eyes shone with something that sent off a warning bell inside her head. She chewed her lip as he continued to stare at her. The moment seemed to stretch for an eternity as their gazes warred silently. The scar which ran the length of the left side of his face darkened in color as he stepped closer.

  His warm breath fanned her cheek, his tone low and husky when he asked, ‘Do you know where Halvard’s wife might be?’

  Caroline frowned. She had been right to suspect. Something about the way he was looking at her and his words told her he already knew who she was. She was sure of it. Air of intelligence swirled about the man. After all he had been the one who allegedly had brought her down into the hall. Wasn’t that what Mildred had told her?

 
She had been all too ready to reveal her identity. But now, having met this man, face to face, she thought better of it. That he had saved her was no longer of any consequence now.

  The guards around them, having heard his words, stood at attention and looked on. His large frame and very presence was frightening. She swallowed and shook her head. She wished now she had not said a word to him. Lashing back at him might have sealed her another intolerable fate. She had no one to blame but herself for not keeping her mouth shut like the others. Nay, instead, the upset this man brought to her stomach she had allowed to control her actions. A terrible mistake. He did not smile this time, but his lips twitched and Caroline stopped breathing. The bastard.

  He knew!

  Her eyes went round as she took a step back, shaking her head in denial. He grinned at her or at least what she thought was a grin and she sucked in her bottom lip. There was no escape.

  The knight didn’t care if she spoke again or not. The sound of her sweet voice stirred something in him he did not want to ponder further and though she faced him with a brave front, the shakiness now in her tone had given away her fear and loathing as had her huge eyes.

  Suddenly he wished to be free of her presence.

  ‘Perhaps if you are not as bold as you have been with me to William, mayhap he will show you this mercy you speak of. Mayhap you will not find yourself lying next to your friend there for the lies that fall from your own Saxon lips.’

  Caroline choked. He’d thrown her own words back at her.

  He wouldn’t dare?

  What was she thinking? He would and he knew she knew it. She was sick to her gut with terror that she had let him goad her into his trap.

  ‘Your chance has presented itself, ask him now,’ he continued in a controlled voice.

  Caroline’s mouth fell open. William was here? Nay! She’d not spotted any royal guards down below in the bailey earlier. Nay, it could not be so.

  Aye.

  For just then the leader in front of her glanced over the top of her head to the commotion behind her.

  Hearty cries filled the room and Caroline felt icy dread slide up her spine as she reluctantly turned. The chill blast of fear slammed into her gut. The king and a few royal guards were almost upon them.

  William the Conqueror was here!

  King William, his dark hair sprinkled through with light gray receded far back from his broad forehead, his thin face mottled with anger and those sharp eyes like a hawk shot over her for a brief second. Though he did not stand as tall as the leader and had a slight protruding belly, he was broad and big arms hung at his side. In one hand he carried a heavy and bloody blade that still dripped blood. He was quite a majestic sight to behold. A dominating and formidable force that struck more fear inside her. Caroline found herself fisting her hands even tighter into the folds of her gown so hard that her fingers felt numb. She trembled anew when the king's loud and raspy voice filled the soiled hall.

  He spoke to the leader without another glance in her direction. ‘Have they given up the Lady yet, lieutenant? Does she yet live?’

  Caroline stopped breathing and waited with her knees quaking in horror at his words.

  The leader did not look at her again when he addressed his king. ‘Seems the people of Halvard Castle are loyal to their beloved mistress.’ Caroline let out a sigh of relief only for it to be short-lived when he added, ‘But it is all for nothing. Aye, she still lives. For I have discovered the Lady, Sire.’

  He turned his cold blue eyes on her and Caroline wanted to slap the smug look from his scarred face.

  ‘As I knew you would. Nothing escapes you, lieutenant.’

  The king turned a hard look upon her just as the leader reached out and grabbed her elbow roughly and drew her forward.

  ‘Bow before your king, Lady.’ He commanded.

  Caroline could not help herself and wrenched free with a jerk and shoved away from him. He moved not an inch and instead laughed softly near her ear. If she had a blade she would add a scar to his cheek to match the other one.

  Caroline dropped hastily into a deep curtsy and prayed she did not choke on her words. ‘Your Majesty.’ Her jaw hurt, she held her teeth so tight.

  ‘Ah, Lady Caroline. Rise. Feisty one, are you then?’ The king addressed her with a hasty, almost dismissive wave. No amusement laced his tone.

  She met his dangerous gaze and wanted to turn away just as quickly. But she could not for she was frozen.

  A quiet hush fell over the jammed room. Weapons being unsheathed and the clang of steel were the only sounds she heard in the quiet, that and her heart which thudded loudly against her ribs, but even that dulled compared to the king’s booming voice.

  ‘I showed your husband mercy for his part with Hereward in their failed stand at Ely. However, he failed to abide by it. Neither did he learn from it and give up his pursuits. An arrogant man. Would have been wise of him to leave go, but…well, a stubborn and most vile burr cannot remove itself. He erred most grievously in believing there would be no judgment against him for his attack on the Earl of Kent’s lands and it has cost him dearly.’

  The king made a gesture with his hand over his shoulder and a soldier rushed forth carrying a blood-soaked sack. ‘Your husband has paid the true price of his crimes, Lady Caroline.’

  Cold fear gripped Caroline and she wanted to back away from the icy glare the king was bestowing upon her as he continued. ‘Let it be known to the rest of you here. Mercy will not be shown to any foolish enough to rise up against me. Only the weak have flown to the borders and any who assist those in exile, you shall face swift justice as well. Your heroic savior Hereward is gone. Ely mine. Rid yourself of any radical ideals now. Show them.’ He instructed the soldier he’d called forward with a flick of his wrist.

  The soldier dug into the bag and pulled something large out. Caroline swallowed the bile back, her throat convulsed when the bloody severed head of Lord Halvard was held up to the screams of his remaining loyal people in the crowded room.

  ‘Silence!’ the king shouted.

  The hall instantly fell quiet.

  Caroline knew she was going to be sick from the dizziness and loathing battling inside her. Her eyes shot quickly to the dark leader. His keen blue eyes watched her with something intense storming in them and she turned sharply back to the king. He stepped near her. Aye, she was indeed going to be sick.

  The king’s warm breath washed over her face as he said, ‘Henceforth by royal decree, Lady Caroline, your lands and all within are now my lieutenant’s. Shall I find out you aided your treasonous husband,’ he waved the soldier near whom carried her husband's head, ‘you shall meet the same fate.’

  Like a pendulum swing William’s hand arced through the air and the soldier dropped her husband's head at her feet.

  She did not want to but her eyes followed and her mouth dropped open. Her husband’s head rolled and stopped against her bare feet. The long sandy-colored hair he’d once glorified now lay stiffened by the dirt and blood that ran down into his thick beard. His glazed over and lifeless eyes stared wide open at her.

  The last thing Caroline remembered was the room spinning and the sound of someone screaming. She soon heard no more as darkness came up to claim her and she was glad for the screaming had stopped.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Water splashed her face and Caroline shot up with a startled shout.

  ‘‘Tis alright, my lady. ‘Tis just me, Mildred. You are safe now.’

  Caroline cleared the water away from her eyes to see a grinning Norman soldier holding an empty scrub bucket. She glared at him as he whistled and walked away. Orienting herself, she saw that they were now outside and in the back of a wooden cart.

  From the bank to the tower all was a ball of fire.

  The tower was engulfed fully in flames and as she stared at it, it gave an earsplitting howl as though in pain and fell in on itself to the ground in a plume of spraying sparks.

  There was nothing lef
t to their home. The last of it now a pile of rubble alongside the rest of the sacked and burning village.

  The air held a sweet sickly scent outside of the burning wood.

  Death.

  Blood soaked, charred bodies and body parts lay strewn this way and that across the grounds. Caroline averted her gaze from the gruesome sight and her stinging eyes swept over the rest of the busy yard in search of Kelbie.

  Mildred’s soft voice came next to her, quickly, ‘He is there, my lady with the rest of the children in the other carts.’

  Caroline followed where the woman pointed and she saw her son, covered from head to toe in black soot, his large eyes, wet with his tears, huddled amongst the other children watching her. His thumb in his mouth.

  Fresh tears began anew and she swallowed hard to quell the horror threatening to consume her. She straightened her back and moved to get off the cart. Mildred tried to restrain her, but she wrenched free and stepped down to the ground.

  She had not even taken her first step when the all too familiar male voice halted her in her tracks.

  ‘Not a wise move, demoiselle.’

  Caroline whirled to see the blue-eyed leader standing right behind her. Where had he come from? The choking smoke from the fire swirled around his head. She coughed and waved a waft of smoke from her face.

  Again, she could not hold her tongue. Raw emotions ran through her at the senseless deaths around her. The weight of the whole day caused her to lash out at him without thought. Why it was so with this man, despite his intimidation and fierce scowl, she did not know. And that angered her too. She needed to yell at someone and since her husband was now dead. This arrogant Norman would do.

  She spat on the ground and the words tumbled out of her mouth, ‘Murdering Norman pig!’