by Wend Petzler
Ahmed held his vigilance over his master. A sad smile curved the Arab's mouth as he watched Drago unconsciously rub the old scar above his heart. Drago would soon learn the truth.
* * * *
Unconsciously, Isabella rubbed an old scar, persistent in its ache. It had been hours since she'd seen a soul, her stomach growled from hunger and thirst. Sitting on the straw mattress, Isabella waited patiently. If there was one thing she learned from her stepfather's rages was patience. Once, she watched the righteous Earl actually tear his hair out, ranting when she refused to cower or cringe in fear, something he desperately needed to see. If the bastard below sought the same, William was in for a big surprise. If the Earl was unable to break her spirit, why would William be different?
Night was upon the fortress when a tentative knock rapped on the door seeking entrance. Isabella removed the chair, allowing a young woman with long, curly auburn hair, carrying a wooden tray laden with food, to enter. Closing the door behind the girl, she watched her set it on the small table.
"My lady, I am Tara. My brother has gone to Blood Keep to warn the Black Army you are here. We will aid you in any way we can, if you promise to take us with you.” Her large, brown eyes darted nervously towards the door as she whispered. “My brother wishes to be a Demon."
"Tell your brother, I shall personally make him one! Have you seen the woman I arrived with? Is she well?” Isabella asked, fearful for Alison.
Stricken, Tara replied, “The poor thing was sent to the dungeons. She has not been harmed, not yet.” The girl's eyes flared with hatred. “William waits for the Englishman to tell him what he can do with her. I swear our laird has gone mad with greed and power. William is evil and no one is brave enough to stop him. Many of our people tire of war and wish to live in peace."
She reached for Tara's hand. “Thank you for the food. Is there a way Alison can receive some, too?” Isabella asked, sitting down to eat.
"I can find a way to deliver the lady some food. Be vigilant for William, he bids his time to rape you. The laird feels ye owe him for the many times ye defeated his plans.” Tara chuckled at the surprised look on Isabella's face. “Yea, my lady, I know who you are. We know ye are the brains of Blood Keep.” She curtsied, hurrying out of the chamber.
Isabella chuckled to herself, eating heartily, her situation looking better. Still, she prayed Nicolas would come quickly and rescue her. Torn inside, she felt lost, and he was the other half of her soul, feeling incomplete without him by her side.
* * * *
"That will be another day before we can ride,” Nicolas roared, slamming his fists on the mahogany desk in the library where the group gathered to make plans for Isabella's rescue. Nicolas chaffed in frustration.
A young man with auburn hair stepped back in fear. Michael laid a reassuring hand on the boy's shoulder. “I know, Drago, but we need the darkness to maneuver. It will also give the lad, here, more time to get back to William's castle and not be suspected."
Exhausted, Nicolas sat down heavily in the chair. “I understand the need. It's just difficult to wait.” Eyes bloodshot, purplish circles had formed under his haunted gaze. The once proud knight was lost without his wife.
Phillip wished to reassure the great knight, “Do not worry, Lord Drago. Lady Isabella is more than capable of defending herself. She is.... “Gabriel coughed loudly, stepping in front of Michael who dragged the boy out of the chamber.
Gabriel rolled his eyes heavenward at the near miss, though Drago appeared not to notice. Pitying Drago, he felt Aggie poke him in the back, reminding him of his mission. “My lord, Aggie says you must eat to maintain your strength. She threatens to have you gagged and bound, not allowing you to rescue Isabella if you do not do as she orders.” Drago glared at him, and Gabriel was certain if he had been a step closer the man would have thrown a punch at him. “Aggie means it. Go and eat.” Gabriel grinned, unaffected as the great Red Dragon scowled. Aggie peeked from behind him, waving a wooden spoon at Drago.
Resigned, Nicolas followed the housekeeper into the hall for supper. He forced the meal down only for strength's sake. Finished, he pushed away from the table and headed to his chamber, unaware of the strained silence.
Otto was the first to speak. “Best they be about fetching the lass home soon,” He took a long swig of the strong ale. “Or fights are gonna start between our boys and Drago's!"
Drago's men stared with shame at the empty chairs of the Lord and Lady. The Black Army was barely civil to the knights responsible for allowing William's men to take Isabella. Otto and Brandon watched the resentment fester as an open wound amongst the knights. Worried as they were for Isabella, the old warriors were equally afraid of the angry undercurrent the bitterness brewed.
Brandon frowned, watching the seething knights. “Your right, best we head it off.” He signaled Gabriel and Michael to come to him. “Get your men back to the barracks. No fights! We work together in retrieving our Bella home. Remind the knights of their duty to her!” They nodded in unison and ordered their men from the hall without incident.
"Poor Drago,” Aggie sniffed. “The poor man paces in his chambers, looking so lost."
Otto stroked his braided beard sadly. “I know how the mon feels. We should be out there hunting the devils down, but we must wait. The Demons need the dark to slip inside William's castle."
The great Red Dragon was completely lost, seeing Isabella everywhere. In their chamber it was far worse. He saw her in the bath, on the bed, her emerald eyes bright with laughter. Groaning in despair, Nicolas fled the room, unable to staunch the stifling fear rushing in on him. Outside on the ramparts, he gazed at the waning moon, a mere sliver. His thoughts returned to the vibrant woman he admired, facing the hard truth, he loved Isabella.
The heaviness in his chest lifted, and amazingly he felt free. I love her, he laughed softly. Shocked at how those precious words felt so right, he knew he had to go to her and tell her over and over how much she meant to him.
* * * *
The drunken revelry downstairs continued, causing Isabella to wake from a fitful sleep. Tara's brother had confirmed earlier the Demons would come tomorrow night, and Philip would lead them inside the fortress.
Relief flooded her Nicolas was not seriously injured. During the long hours alone, Isabella faced the hard truth of her feelings toward her husband. At first she had chucked it up to being alone, then it hit her, she loved him. Somehow over the last two months Nicolas Drago had somehow softened her ice-encased heart and had embedded himself into her soul. She knew if they were to be parted by death she could not survive. Doubt invaded her newfound revelation. Did he love her? Could he love a woman like her?
Her doubts continued to plague her until she fell asleep, exhausted by her worries.
The next morning Tara brought breakfast, a worried expression on her pretty features. She warned Isabella of William boasting of the things he wanted to do to her. It would not be long before the man developed the courage to act out his fantasies. Isabella thanked her and ate ravenously, her appetite increasing. Blaming it on nerves, she concentrated on escaping. Tonight the moon would be absent and the night cast into darkness, and they would come for her.
Her day drew on and boredom set in. She lay on the bed and curled into a ball, unable to hold back the tide of tears, missing Nicolas terribly. Exhausted, she found relief in sleep. A crash of pottery, followed by screams and laughter woke Isabella, her senses alert, ready to fight. Tara frantically knocked on the door, begging for entrance.
Time was up!
She leapt off the bed and let the frightened girl in. “What is wrong?"
Tara's voice trembled in fear. “William is coming!"
Looking wildly about the bare chamber, Isabella frantically thought of a plan as she removed her cross-shaped brooch. Tara gasped when she saw it was actually a slim dagger. Isabella's gaze settled on the chamber pot and an idea struck her. Dragging her skirts up, she used the dagger to prick the tender ski
n close to her womanhood.
Stunned, Tara stared at her until she realized what Isabella was about and hurriedly tore several long lengths from her own shift. She handed the material over to Isabella who in turn wiped her blood on it before fastening the strips as one would when a woman's monthly time arrived.
Outside the door, William bellowed, demanding entrance in the chamber. Tara fearfully glanced at Isabella who calmly nodded for the girl to open the door. The drunken man stumbled inside the chamber. Isabella cringed as William approached, chuckling at her fear.
"Yer Ladyship! I see ye were expecting me.” Leering down in her face, William grabbed her arm and threw her viciously on the bed. He landed heavily on top of her, knocking the wind out of Isabella. She held back the natural instinct to fight, forcing her body to lie still, accepting his groping hands. Tears coursed down her cheeks as William giggled as he tossed her skirts past her knees, seeking to claim his prize.
Tara shrieked at the top of her lungs, “My lord, ye mustn't touch her!” She made the sign of the Cross and folded her hands in front of her, mumbling a fervent prayer.
Scowling, William snarled, “What be yer problem wench? Canna ye see I am busy?” He groped Isabella again, feeling moistness. Laughing wickedly, William drew back his fingers to view her obvious readiness, what he saw nearly undone him.
Blood!
Flopping backward, he crashed to floor. William got up and roared, “Why did ye not tell me yer monthly had come?” Frantic, he wiped his hands on the front of his shirt, glaring at the sobbing women.
Tara fell to her knees, her head bowed so William could not see the laughter in her eyes. “Forgive me, my lord, I tried to warn ye, but yer mind was set."
Isabella hid her face in her hands, wailing even louder. The door slammed behind William as he fled the chamber. A wicked grin split her features as she peeked through her fingers making sure they were alone. She leapt off from the bed, yanking the material out from between her legs and threw it in the small fire.
The maid covered her mouth, giggling at the reaction the great William McLeod had to a woman's time of the month. “Lady Isabella, you are the grandest woman I ever had the honor to meet."
The smile Isabella turned to the girl was brilliant in the dim light. “You haven't seen me at my best yet. In due time, you will know what I am truly capable of.” Isabella walked over to the window, taking the candle with her. She peered out into the dark. A faint howl could be heard, followed by many adding voice to the forlorn song of demons hunting.
She glanced at Tara and ordered, “Put out the fire!” Tara did as she was told, returning to Isabella's side as the clocks below chimed midnight.
A triumphant smile curved her lips as Isabella winked at Tara. “They're here!"
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Chapter Fifteen
Reining in his excitement, Nicolas prepared to rescue his wife as Ahmed aided him with the borrowed armor of a Demon. Ahmed handed his sword, now sheathed in a scabbard made of black leather. Nicolas cinched the wide belt tight about his narrow hips, adjusting to leather pants and tall boots. He pulled on the black leather gauntlets, the knuckles reinforced with coated, enameled steel. A heavy cloak of black wool was fastened to the dark chain mail, the hood deep, covering his face completely.
The hour was late and the stars glittered high above in a moonless, midnight sky. Nicolas strode to the night-shrouded courtyard, looking for his stallion. He glanced around, seeing Gabriel similarly dressed when Michael led the high-stepping Lucifer out of the stables.
"I cannot ride that nightmare of an animal!” Nicolas growled, furious at the waste of time.
Michael explained, “Your horse is of a light color. Besides, Lucifer is the only one who can find Isabella if we are deceived by young Philip.” The dark knight grinned, unaffected by the murderous glare thrown at him.
Determined, Nicolas warily took the reins. Lucifer lifted his head to snort in his face, ears pricked forward as Nicolas spoke softly to the stallion. The warhorse bobbed his head as if agreeing to what he said. To the utter amazement of the Demons, he swung up in the saddle as Lucifer pawed the ground, ready to fly. He felt the awesome power of the stallion beneath him as Lucifer's muscles quivered with anticipation.
Michael swung up on his horse, accepting a canister from a similarly dressed Demon. Dipping his fingers into it, he spread the black mixture over his face, further hiding his swarthy features. “We cover our faces to blend with the night.” He held the canister out to Gabriel who spread it through his golden hair and over his face.
Nicolas accepted the can and copied them. Signaling for the portcullis to be raised, he rocked backward in the saddle when Lucifer surged forward, barely clearing the rising gate. He grabbed a handful of the long, heavy mane and held on for dear life. The Demons raced after him, unleashed to rescue their lost commander.
The pace set was indeed fast. The warhorses knew the roads well, easily speeding onward with the light armor the knights wore. Nicolas counted twenty Demons riding with them. Ahmed remained behind to assist Brandon and Otto with Blood Keep's defenses in case of another attack on the castle. He prayed Isabella remained safe and for his own survival as the possessed horseflesh under him thundered on.
Three hours later, McLeod's Castle could be seen two miles away. Cautiously, they slowed their pace and continued till they reached a low hill on the eastern side of the fortress. The wood and stone fortress appeared to be a mass of projects started and stopped as new lairds were elected and old plans disposed of. A high, stone wall wrapped around the castle, making attack difficult.
Gabriel and Michael reined their horses to a stop beside Nicolas. His heart was pounding from the incredible pace Lucifer insisted on setting. How the devil did his wife ride the volatile stallion so easily, he wondered wildly. The stallion threw his nose in the air as if he caught a familiar scent. As one, the warhorses wheeled about to face the rider who parted from the shadows. Philip. All senses were on alert, the chance of an ambush were high as the boy was unknown to them. He whispered to Michael who nodded. The swarthy knight rode forward and issued a howl, the sound low and mournful, and then he waited. A candle flickered in a window on the second floor, and the shape of a woman could be seen. The Demons gave voice to their lonely song, the eerie wail captured by the wind and sent to Isabella.
They rode closer to the fortress, using the forest to their advantage. Four Demons were elected to remain with the horses. Michael reached behind his saddle, removing a grappling hook and rope, along with a bundle which he slung around his shoulders. He turned to Philip. “Show us the way, lad."
Shrubbery grew thick and wild around the base of the fortress’ wall. Philip led them to a partially hidden door. Opening proved easier than expected. They silently slipped through, pausing when inside the castle people cheered. Out of the dark, two burly men walked around the corner laughing.
Before Nicolas reacted, two Demons silently slipped behind the men. They covered the Scotsmen's mouths and drove daggers through their windpipes, silencing the men forever. The bodies were dragged into the bushes, hidden from sight.
Taking careful aim, Michael tossed the grapple hook, aiming for the window ledge on the second floor. Jerking the hook, he snagged it on the sill. Michael tested his weight to see if it would hold, satisfied when it did. He urged Drago to go up first, Gabriel and his men next. Bringing up the rear, Michael tied the end of the rope around his waist and shimmed up the castle wall after them.
Isabella stepped away from the window after she heard the howls. The laughter downstairs began to quiet as the drunken people made their beds for the night. An iron hook sailed through the window and caught. She held her breath when moments later a gloved hand reached in, using the ledge to pull the man's weight up. A dark cloaked figure swung in the chamber and crouched, ready.
Nicolas!
Scanning the room for any signs of danger, a dagger held ready in his hand, Nicolas saw only Isabell
a and a maid. He straightened to aid the next man in. When he turned to speak with her, Isabella flew into his arms, trembling. At last, Isabella was back in his arms! Crooking a finger under her chin, he tilted her head back so he could see her beautiful face. “Are you well?” he asked hesitantly, afraid he had not come soon enough. The fear weighed heavily on his mind as he gazed at her.
"You came!” Isabella whispered. “I knew you would come for me. No, nothing has happened. I am fine due to Tara's help. She's a very brave, young woman.” Turning in his arms, she greeted Michael after Gabriel helped him through the window.
Michael bowed with a gallant sweep of his hand. “My lady, it appears you got yourself in a bit of trouble this time.” He grinned in pure devilment as he tossed the bundle to her. “I guess this means you owe me!” Michael grinned broadly when she stuck her tongue at him.
"What does Michael mean by that?” Nicolas whispered as she opened the bag. He was surprised to see the Demon sword, chain mail, and clothes inside. Michael ordered the Demons to turn about allowing Isabella privacy to change.
"Let us just say I saved his life once, and now we are even. Right, Michael?” Isabella replied, frowning at the swarthy man who laughed softly at her.
With Nicolas’ help, she quickly shed her gown and donned her customary clothes. Nicolas helped her put on the chain mail, hooking the cloak securely to the hooks in front. Isabella reached for her sword and paused, smiling fondly as she traced the she-demon's fierce features. Determined, she strapped the scabbard to her back, adjusting the weight between her shoulder blades. Quick and efficiently, she braided her hair. She smoothly caught the canister Michael tossed to her, liberally spreading the black mixture over her face and hair.
