by Wend Petzler
"I shall take the both of them on as a personal challenge! They will not drink me under the table this time!” Edward vowed as he and his personal guards strode to his chambers.
Nicolas took Isabella's hand in a firm grasp, dragging her to theirs. When the door closed behind her, Nicolas faced her with a fierce glare. “What's happened now?” His hands rested on his narrow hips, growing furious by every minute she delayed.
Losing patience with the audacity Alden possessed, she answered, “Alden has Alison's son in his grasp, too. Alison doesn't know what the bastard wants, only that he has Allen.” Isabella sat on the bed, helplessly looking up at her husband, tired of her enemy continuously sneaking from the dark to snatch the ones she loved.
At odds with himself over the craftiness of Lord Alden, Nicolas sat beside her, rubbing his face wearily. “Do you believe the boys are being held together?"
"I believe they are. The ironic thing is, Xander and Allen are cousins, and don't even know it.” Isabella laughed, close to madness, nerves taunt from stress and worry for the children.
He took Isabella in his arms, lying back on the soft mattress, loving the way she curled to his side, resting her head in the curve of his broad shoulder. Nicolas stroked her silky hair, murmuring in her pink ear. “Fear not, the boys are safe. Tomorrow night, we shall put our plan in motion, and you will find them."
In her heart, she knew the plan was good, but time was not on their side. The clock ticked much to slow for her sanity. In desperation, she sat up, hungrily kissing Nicolas, pouring all her fear and doubts into him. Nicolas rolled her onto her back, devouring her, forcing the problems back for a while. He made love to her, forcing her to divert all her attention to him, briefly away from the worry. Sated, they fell asleep, Isabella secure in Nicolas’ tight embrace.
A few hours later, they woke and bathed, preparing for the opening feast celebrating the Tournament of the Demons. Hand in hand, Nicolas and Isabella walked down the stairs, greeted by enthusiastic cheers as the people shouted as the Red Dragon and his bride entered the hall.
The feast was a success as people laughed, ate, and made merry. Isabella relaxed, enjoying the entertainment when she noticed Miles making his way towards her.
Acting as if she had not seen the young man, she whispered to Nicolas, “Showtime.” He did not look at her, but squeezed her hand assuring her that he had heard, keeping his eyes on the dancers, giving the illusion he was unaware of Miles.
"My lady, I must converse with you about a problem concerning the morrow's events.” Miles asked respectively, keeping his eyes downcast.
"Please forgive me. I must attend the matter personally.” Isabella bent to kiss her husband's warm lips before rising from her chair, leading the way from the crowded hall.
When they were alone, Miles savagely rounded on Isabella. “Have you spoken to Drago about my involvement with Xander?” He demanded, casting nervous glances behind him.
A sneer formed on her soft lips as Isabella moved menacingly closer to the young man who was a few inches taller than her. Her voice was soft, dangerous, velvet over steel as she whispered to the arrogant boy. “If I had spoken to Drago you would be hanging on yon wall and your cowardly entrails displayed for the world to scoff at!” Isabella growled, growing tired of Mile's attitude.
Miles jumped back, unsure whether or not this woman could be trusted to keep her word and not harm him, not wanting to take any chances. “When do you plan to murder Drago?” He watched her closely for any signs of deception.
Pain and anguish shone in Isabella's emerald eyes, but her head rose proudly. “I have no choice, but one, poison. At tomorrow night's feast, you shall get what you desire and then, you will return my nephew to me, alive,” Isabella spat, appearing powerless in the situation Miles placed her in.
Satisfied Isabella would do as he ordered, Miles continued, “When I see Drago's dead body, I shall send word to have Xander brought here. Alden wishes to wed after you are reunited with the boy. My uncle will use him to keep you in line.” As he said the words, Miles grew increasingly uncomfortable using an innocent child in such a deplorable way.
"What do you get out of this arrangement?” Isabella asked harshly, watching the young man for any signs of doubt or desire to deviate from the villainous plot.
Squaring his bony shoulders, he coolly met her glare. “I will have my father's demesne and control of the Black Army."
The look of wishing to commit murder was visible in her raging emerald eyes, giving Miles cause to take another step back. “I see,” Was the only thing she could say past the wrath she felt at her once trusted squire.
Miles grew nervous being alone with her, a woman who could bring his death about with a simple word or worse, by her own hand. If Isabella were to have the upper hand, she would not think twice to send the Black Army hunting for him. Confident Isabella would obey him, if she wanted to see Xander alive.
Making as if to leave, she halted, lifting a dark eyebrow at him. “Before I go, I feel I should impart with information valuable to you. If I fail in killing Drago and you murder the boy, it will be your brother's blood on your hands. As to the lad taken this morning, he is also your relative, Alden's very own son. Are you sure you want to be loyal to a man who knowingly places his own son in danger?” She hissed before she strode away, her long skirt swished ominously, praying Miles would think on what she said.
Her words slapped him hard. Miles frantically tried to reason his actions and failed for the boys were family.
* * * *
As dawn blushed on the eastern horizon, Nicolas woke to the feeling of a sense of peace with Isabella's supple body curled to his hard frame, a shapely leg thrown over his. Hating to disturb her, there was many things needing be done before the opening ceremony and last minute plans if the rescue was to be successful.
Stirring, she opened her eyes, tired from the insatiable love making of her virile husband. Yawning mightily, Isabella turned a contented smile upon the man who captured her heart. “Can't we sleep just a bit longer?” she begged, snuggling closer to his hard body.
Wishing nothing more than to remain in bed with her, duties were pressing. “Come, we must be about before our enemies have a chance to get anymore of an upper hand than they already have.” He pressed a sweet, warm kiss on her pouting lips before rolling out of the bed, grabbing fresh clothes.
"Yes, husband,” Isabella replied as a dutiful wife would, grabbing the velvet brown dress Nicolas tossed at her, a sardonic grin twisted her lips as she dressed.
He couldn't resist teasing Isabella, towering above her. “Good wives always do as their husbands command.” Nicolas busted up laughing at the icy glare Isabella shot at him as she pulled her slippers on.
"No wonder I was content being the Demon Lord, at least I was feared!” Isabella tried to be wistful, but in her heart she was content. The eloquent look Nicolas wore had her laughing as he knew damned well knew the truth.
Nicolas purposely strode over to her and tossed her over his shoulder, carrying Isabella down to the hall. She couldn't stop laughing as she held onto his waist, her long hair streaming down his backside. When he reached their chairs, he set her back on her feet, Nicolas’ eyes gleamed wickedly, kissing her hard and soft, pouring his love into her.
"You were saying?” Nicolas arrogantly inquired as he held her chair out for her.
"I love you,” she whispered, emerald eyes sparkling with mischief.
Winking outrageously at her, they hungrily dug into the rich breakfast. Isabella ate quickly, deciding it best to go and seek out Aggie. Before she parted from Nicolas, Isabella held his handsome face for a moment, seeing the love she felt for him reflected in his eyes.
He could not hide the pleasure Isabella instilled in him, watching her stride through the hall, her emerald eyes hardened with purpose as she sought Aggie out. Brandon joined him in short time and they left the castle for the lists. Nicolas silently prayed the plan would proceed without any mis
haps.
Aggie cursed up a blue streak as she mixed the potion for Drago. “Ye know, I could make a drought for Alden, sparing Drago the indignantly of jousting the worm?"
Hiding the laughter behind her hand, Isabella turned a stern eye to the older woman. “We legally can't kill Alden due to the challenge. Be heartened, Drago promises to end Alden's constant threat to me and Blood Keep."
The housekeeper grinned as she poured the clear liquid in a vile, corking the bottle. Aggie handed it to Isabella. “Tell Drago it will hurt like hell at first before passing without any lingering side-effects. The potion will have the same symptoms of a person being poisoned, giving the enemy the false sense of winning.” Aggie looked out the kitchen window, noticing the sun was shining upon the Field of Tournaments. “Go lass, ye must don yer armor and be the Demon Lord you were born to be!” She hugged Isabella whom she loved as dearly as her own daughters. Releasing the girl, Aggie shoved Isabella out the kitchen door.
In her chambers, Michael held the special armor reserved for ceremonies. Isabella went behind a screen and donned a black linen shirt, leather tunic, drawing a thick, black-dyed leather jerkin over it. Tugging on a polished pair of boots on, she donned, with Michael's help, the heavy, silver chain mail fashioned with shoulder pads molded of thick, black leather and trimmed with heavy silver, the dividing act marking Isabella's commanding status in the Black Army. A black wool cloak, trimmed with thick silver cord was hooked to the shoulder pads by an entwined black and silver chain. Michael grabbed the elaborate scabbard of the Demon's sword, handing it to her with great reverence. Isabella cinched the wide belt around her narrow waist and followed him down the secret passageway.
"I personally saddled Lucifer and issued Miles to attend Drago. What better way to keep the little bastard busy. Besides, Lucifer near killed the lad when he attempted to saddle him this morn. Twenty of Gabriel's elite Black Knights and twenty of the best of my Demons await us in the lower arena, minus their squires. I want no tattle-tales in our company this morning.” Michael handed the Demon's helm to her as they walked down the steep stairs. “I've not seen Alison's son of late.” His fierce eyes burned dark obsidian, his frown making Michael appear more deadly. “Where is the boy?"
Isabella sighed heavily and paused. “The lad's been taken beneath our very nose. Has Gabriel asked of the boy's absence?” She was worried what the golden-hair knight would do.
"Alison is acting strange, and Gabriel grows suspicious,” Michael growled, furious at the kidnapping of another innocent.
"She is terrified for Alden holds his own son hostage.” As they continued to the lower arena, her dejection was replaced by fierce pride when she saw her most trusted, bravest knights their darkly gleaming armor astride their heavily muscled, sleek warhorses. Her heart faltered when she met the angry eyes of Gabriel, who had the look of a man wanting to break things with his bare hands.
"Alden took Allen, didn't he?” Gabriel snarled.
Isabella faced her most honorable knight. The authority in her stance unmistakable, her eyes hardened to emerald jewels. “Lord Gabriel, you have a duty to perform. Deviate from the course and you will bring harm to the boys! Play along until I give the order to do otherwise.” Her understanding gaze met Gabriel's glare. “Trust me. I have never failed you, and I shall not begin with the lives of Xander and Allen."
Lucifer pawed the ground, anxious to be about as Isabella swung up in the saddle, arranging her cloak to flow over the stallion's powerful rump. Gabriel handed Isabella's shield, hooking over her left knee. Taking the Demon's helm from him, she shook out the long tail and donned it. The knights sat straighter in their saddles as their leader took her rightful place amongst them.
Gabriel swung up on his horse, more in control of his emotions as the Demon Lord saluted him. “I will go along with your plan. But if you hesitate in killing Alden, I swear on my love for the boys, I won't.” Gabriel urged his horse to take his place to Isabella's right as Michael urged his to her left.
The knights formed in pairs, a Black Knight alongside a Demon. Black enamel lances rose as did bright, serrated swords as the men prepared for the ceremonial entrance.
"Men, I want you to know how proud I am of you. May honor, integrity, and strength be with you as you compete. Ride with honor for our way of life and our families, most of all ride for Blood Keep!” Isabella shouted, drawing her sword, holding it aloft as Lucifer rose on his hind legs, screaming.
The knights roared in unison, and as one turned, riding from the arena. Michael and Gabriel brought up the rear while Isabella stayed. She felt strength flow through her body as she replaced her sword and lowered the visor. Once again she was the fearsome Dark Specter, the Demon Lord!
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Chapter Twenty Two
In high spirits, Nicolas entered the hall followed by his newly acquired squire, Miles. He searched for his wife, and in failing to find her, sought out Aggie. The older woman assured him everything was fine.
"Lord Drago, you must go to yer chambers and change for the opening ceremony of the Tournament of the Demons.” Aggie smiled broadly as she hustled to the kitchen, making sure lunch was being prepared as well as tonight's feast.
Nicolas did as he was told. Surprised, he picked up his new clothes, a complete leather outfit made especially for him. He was impressed by the workmanship of the Red Dragon crest sewn on the leather tunic he donned.
Miles swallowed hard as he watched Drago dress. A part of him hated himself for the decision to murder a man as honorable and decent as the Red Dragon. He picked up Drago's sword and respectfully handed the blade to the tall knight. He thought he was seeing things when a sad shadow passed over the man's fierce, amber eyes, replaced by decisiveness as Drago left the chamber.
Edward was in the act of accepting a cup of wine when he froze, watching Drago stride toward him, dressed in a leather tunic and hose, appearing even more lethal, more powerful than ever before. The Baron of Blood Keep strode through the welcoming crowd, smiling at Edward as he approached.
"Drago, you appear to have adjusted quite well to Blood Keep.” Edward grinned at his champion.
"Where is Isabella?” Nicolas asked as he accepted a cup of wine from Brandon, squirming at the attention his new attire attracted.
Edward smiled at Otto, as if they shared a secret. “Perhaps Isabella is down at the field waiting for us? Let us go see."
Reluctant to go without Isabella, he had no choice as the King's personal guard surrounded the four men, ensuring the safety of Edward and his champion.
The stands overflowed with spectators and peasants, spilling to the roped area where they could also watch, cheering the knights competing. Banners representing all who were competing flew high above as the breeze lifted the silks. Nicolas couldn't help smiling as he recognized his and Isabella's banners flying proudly above the pavilion where they would sit. Stepping up to the raised platform, he and Edward stood before the comfortable chairs placed for their use. Unable to find his wife, his thoughts flew to the possibility of harm befalling Isabella. A blast of brass horns distracted him to the long arena prepared for the jousting competition.
"Sit down, Drago. Your wife will be joining us in a moment.” Edward accepted a refill of wine from Brandon, who chuckled as the two men shared a private joke. Nicolas sat in his chair, wondering where Isabella was.
Another blast of horns held the audience's breathless attention. The crowd stared down at the far end of the field. A roar erupted as noble and peasant alike cheered as the Black Knights rode side by side with the Demons. The knights parted formation, riding along the sides of the arena. The ground shook as the great warhorses pranced, tossing their fine heads. A third blast of horns drew the knights to a halt, and as one, the warhorses wheeled about on their heels, facing the knights opposite side of the arena. Michael and Gabriel cantered down the center of the arena, pulling their horses to halt before Edward and a stunned Nicolas, saluting. The magnificent war
horses wheeled around to face the opposite end of the arena.
Brass horns sounded again announcing a lone knight. Cheers exploded as people screamed in near hysterics as the huge black stallion rose on his hind legs, pawing the air. The Demon Lord! The crowd went wild as the infamous Lucifer flung his long legs high, prancing as he tossed his fine head, enjoying the attention. The long, black tail swished as his shiny mane crested his thickly muscled neck as the stallion showed off.
The hideous helm faced forward as the knight rode under the raised lances and gleaming swords. When the fearsome knight was within twenty yards of Edward and Nicolas, Lucifer went straight in the air, pawing his front feet, dropped to all fours and stood stone still. The reins were laid down on. The crowd gasped fearfully as the Demon Lord slowly drew his helm off. Astonished, the people went silent as the black knight drew his helm off and a honey gold braid spilled forth. The crowd stared in confused silence as emerald eyes sparkled wickedly, her soft lips pulled to the side in pure devilish delight.
In a clear voice, Isabella spoke to the people, knights, and her husband, “Nicolas Drago, Red Dragon, champion to our King Edward, I salute you. I, the Demon Lord proudly entrust Blood Keep to your more than capable hands to hold with me."
Sitting dumbfounded until a nudge from Edward set Nicolas in motion. He slowly rose to his feet. The crowd waited in baited silence, wondering what his reaction would be. “I, the Red Dragon accept you, Isabella Drago, the Demon Lord, my beautiful wife, with love and gratitude.” Nicolas’ deep, resonating voice came strong as cheers erupted as Isabella urged the stallion forward to hand the hideous helm to her husband. He took the helm with one hand, wrapping the other around her nape, drawing her sweet mouth to his, a kiss filled with promises of more later. Releasing her, Nicolas whispered sternly, his eyes brightened with barely suppressed laughter. “You could have prepared me!"
