Captured by Her Enemy Knight

by Nicole Locke

  ‘Cressida. I’m here—’

  ‘To rescue her?’ Howe laughed. ‘She’s my daughter, though I have toyed with the idea of not keeping the responsibility.’

  ‘No,’ Eldric said. ‘God’s bones, this is an untellable situation. You know those men are gone. What more do you need to end whatever this is? Is it the child?’

  ‘The child!’ Howe’s voice cracked. ‘What do you know of the child? First Daughter, what have you done?’

  Curse Eldric, he’d made it worse. ‘Eldric was there when the mercenaries came and I read your message.’

  ‘He knows too much,’ Howe said. ‘This man, out of all men, cannot walk around knowing—’

  ‘Why not?’ Eldric interrupted. ‘Is it because my identity has something to do with hers?’

  ‘I won’t let you take her back,’ Howe said.

  ‘That’s all I intend to do. Where is she?’

  ‘Stop!’ Cressida said. This was unbearable. Her heart couldn’t take it. ‘You’ll leave us alone. You’ll leave all of us alone. You must go. What are you even doing here? There is no reason for you to be here. Do you know what—?’

  ‘I’m done. Blood splatters my clothes and I would spill more, but I refuse to simply stand here. You never stop. We can’t go back, or spin around each other as we have. Is he holding you to ransom? Whatever was said, it can be undone. I’m here now. The men are dead. There’s only us.’

  ‘How are the scars on your back, First Daughter? Finish him.’

  ‘Leave,’ she begged. She was believing, hoping that Eldric cared. It...sounded as though he did and it hurt, it hurt.

  ‘Kill him, Daughter, as I require you. As I have always required from you.’

  Sick rose in her throat. She’d do anything for her sister. Was this what it came down to? To kill the man she now knew she loved, the man who had hurt her, for a child she’d never met, but who was her family?

  Chapter Sixteen

  Howe clapped.

  Cressida jumped and he started laughing.

  ‘You’re protecting him! Why didn’t I see it before? Three times failing to pierce him with your arrows. I was fooled. Fooled because you marked him. You didn’t even kill the men flanking him. I had to.’

  He looked wildly around, a harsh laugh escaping him. ‘Oh, this is almost divine in its familiarity.’

  Her father’s pleasure was exactly what she feared. When he was like this, people died.

  ‘This isn’t familiar, Father. I’m not protecting him.’

  ‘You are. You are. You are. How did I get here? Hmm.’ He pointed. ‘You! Always you. You’ve put me here again. All my mercenaries dead and before me is a woman protecting a man. You might as well be brandishing a blade at me like that Buchanan woman had. Even your voice has that tinge of desperation as if I had killed someone, but who do you grieve for? Ah! You worry over the child!’

  Her hesitation caused this. Eldric caused this! Her father wouldn’t ever accept an apology. Spilling her blood, carving more scars wouldn’t ever satisfy him now.

  She couldn’t simply bide her time until it was safer to take her sister. To protect her became infinitely harder. Impossible! She pulled the dagger at her side.

  ‘Cressida,’ Eldric said. She heard the warning in his voice. Hated it. His pleading eyes were a lie, all of it false. He had no rights to warn her. No rights at all. She’d lain with him. Loved him, and he...believed she was evil just like her father. That she could never be good. She knew better now.

  He was the coward. Spouting words he shouldn’t have that made everything worse. Storming in here as if a simple rescue was all that was needed. It was up to her to make the difficult decisions. Again. Alone. For her sister, she must.

  ‘Look at your arm trembling,’ Howe said. ‘What has become of you? How far have you fallen?’

  ‘Fallen, Father? Fallen? I’ll show you who will fall.’

  * * *

  ‘No!’ Eldric cried out.

  Ice. Cold. Dread. Eldric realised his impatience, his need to hold and protect this woman had tipped some balance he didn’t understand. He warned himself to hold on, to learn from her, and instead...twice a fool!

  Howe cackled. ‘I should have drowned you when I could. Ended you. You worthless, ungrateful child. You foul, low-born, unwanted—’

  Eldric charged, slamming his fist against her father’s head. The force spun him over and he crumpled to the ground.

  Cressida shrieked, jumped around Eldric, her dagger aiming for her father’s heart.

  ‘No!’ He grabbed her shoulders, gripped her wrist and forced the dagger away from them. ‘Drop it, Cressida, it’s over.’

  Steel in her eyes and death in her skill. She could physically do it. When he met her, he would have said she could do it without a backward glance. He knew better now. It would kill her to harm her father.

  She wrenched her arm; he didn’t let go. ‘He won’t stop until we stop him. You don’t know him. I do.’

  ‘I may not know him, but I know you. Though he breathes, he’s down, Cressida. His head bleeds from my fist. That is all that will happen to him. Let...let the King decide his fate.’

  ‘I’m his daughter. I will decide whether he lives or dies.’

  ‘Truly. Defenceless like this? I won’t have it. You are too good for this; it would harm you and—’

  ‘Harm me! Nothing can be done to me that wasn’t already done. Protecting myself when there’s nothing to protect will solve nothing. You’re a fool, Eldric. Naive! This isn’t some simple battle. Some right and wrong. The enemy isn’t felled; all is not solved because he’s transported to the Tower. I can only do what must be done. I must—’ She stopped. Her eyes, darting to the wall attached to the men.

  ‘The men are felled,’ he said. ‘No one is coming.’

  ‘But the child.’

  ‘Do you know where she is?’

  ‘My sister was in that room where the men were.’ She paled. ‘You didn’t see her? Are you certain you got them all?’

  She yanked; he didn’t let go. ‘You bastard. Release me. If she’s gone, and now I can’t ask my father questions, I’ll have your head!’

  ‘Your father deserved my fist and then some. I will never tolerate cruelty towards you.’

  He’d killed that mercenary in the inn, too. And the way Eldric said it, she could almost believe him. Almost, but never again. ‘Let me go! You shouldn’t be here. You have no right to be here!’

  ‘Well, I am and there’s someone else here who needs us, so control yourself, Archer. I won’t let you go so you can kill him. And if there is the child next door, we’re risking her life with your inability to give up.’

  He felt her stiffen, braced himself for the blow. Instead, she relaxed. ‘Take me, then.’

  He took her dagger, tucked it into his belt. Watched her stare at her father for one, two heartbeats, her entire body ridged, her fists clenched.

  ‘Let’s go,’ he repeated, easing his grip, ready to defend her again if he must.

  Cursing, she rushed past him and out the front door, then stopped. ‘You left all the bodies just lying around! A trail for anyone to see! To know we were here!’

  ‘I was trying to save you.’

  ‘Save me!’ She slammed into the house. Left enough space for him to follow, but she didn’t step any further inside.

  Everything was quiet. Too quiet. Terror froze Cressida’s feet.

  Curse her father. Could he have sent a signal that she missed? Was it possible her sister wasn’t in this house any more? Before she hid in the rafters, she’d only had a chance to glance in. Saw the five men, the small child sitting on the floor between them.

  Seemingly well fed, dressed appropriately. Clothed. Content. But no one was playing with her, acknowledging her, and she was so very, very quiet, Cressida’s heart had
broken for her. She remembered those forced silences. Remembered how she was protected, but allowed to talk to no one.

  ‘Take care of the bodies,’ she bit out as silently as she could.

  ‘We need to get your sister.’

  Her sister might already be gone. An unknown mercenary taking her far, far away, some place she didn’t know. It’d been luck her father stayed here. Most likely his arrogance, thinking he’d controlled her still. She wouldn’t get that chance again.

  ‘Drag the bodies inside and hide them in that room. The light comes. People will wake.’

  ‘Cressida, let me—’

  She glared at Eldric. If her sister was gone, she’d never forgive him. Never. ‘Now.’

  His nostrils flared, but his eyes... He pivoted and left the house.

  Cressida released her held breath. The house was too silent. Tears pricked. Was it all for nothing? Slowly, forcing her feet to shuffle forward, dread weighing down her heart, she entered the adjacent room. And there, right in the centre, right where she was once surrounded by five deadly mercenaries, sat a little girl. Abandoned.

  She must have made some noise and given away her position because the child’s head whipped around and, for the first time, Cressida saw into her eyes—extremely pale eyes, though their shade was different—and knew with certainty she was her sister. A cascade of white hair like a cloud around her head. Exactly like hers had once been.

  Cressida went to her knees and sat very still while the little girl turned towards her, a look of extreme wariness on her small face.

  Everything in her trembled. The relief, the fear. This was a child. A child she needed to protect. Her father alive, but an enemy for evermore. With all his alliances, he could and would send the worst of mankind after them. She’d never know who was an enemy or whom to trust. And it was just her, just her to protect this young—

  ‘Cressida,’ Eldric called a warning from the other room.

  Cressida wouldn’t speak. Didn’t want to raise her voice and scare the child any more than she already was. And she was scared, her entire body was trembling.

  Then Eldric was there, at her back, standing in the doorway, and the little girl swayed, her chubby fist going to the ground.

  Cressida wanted to straighten her up again. To use the hand that held a dagger to help this child. She couldn’t. She just watched as the child found her balance.

  ‘Cressida.’

  ‘Eldric,’ she said. ‘Stop.’ She was trying to make a connection. She refused to snatch the child and run out of there, though every instinct told her to return to her father, to finish what was started.

  ‘Try Maisie,’ he said.

  The child’s head whipped up and wide pale green eyes stared at Eldric as if wishing he’d talk again.

  ‘What?’ she whispered, keeping her eyes on her sister.

  ‘I believe that’s her name, Cress. Use it.’

  ‘What did you call me?’ She shook her head. ‘Never mind. How do you know her name is Maisie?’

  At that, at that name, the little girl’s face crumpled and, before Cressida could reach for her, before she could provide another word, the child stood on wobbly legs and barrelled straight into her arms.

  Warmth straight through all her defences, her body, her heart. Warmth after a lifetime of being cold. Was this what being raised in a happy household felt like? She’d never let her go.

  ‘Cress,’ Eldric said.

  ‘Why do you keep calling me that?’

  ‘Look at me.’

  Over the shoulder of her sister she did.

  ‘Your father’s disappeared,’ he said.

  Chapter Seventeen

  The pull of the oars against the choppy waters didn’t ease the raging force inside Eldric. Wrath, possession. Shame.

  If Cressida wanted to kill her father, he wanted to do it a thousand times more. But clashing like waves against all that shame and need for the woman who rushed into death’s den was the absolute certainty that nothing of her father flowed in her veins.

  Cressida might share Howe’s traits, but her heart, her soul was nothing like that man. Not even a full-drawn breath in that room and he knew that man was evil. The insidious kind that no matter how much you shove it away, like some oily entity it creeps back in another form.

  And she had faced him alone! Why?

  Because he had sent her there. Rejected her. Said—

  He needed to beg for her forgiveness. To grovel. Spout words that wouldn’t be adequate no matter how many times he repeated them.

  Over it all was this unending possessiveness a thousand times stronger now that she clutched her sister against her chest. Defending them. Dying for them. Waving his sword and roaring to all the entities in all the world didn’t come close to describing what he felt beating in his chest.

  Cressida must have sensed how close he was to the edge for when he grabbed her and Maisie, then ran out of the camp, she hadn’t said a word. Was quiet now as he shouted up into the night for the ladder to be thrown down.

  Cressida, with Maisie strapped to her, wrapped the rope around her until someone on deck pulled them both up and over the ledge to safety.

  Moments passed. Too many of them while he waited for them to throw down the rope. When it finally happened, he noticed the lack of customary loops and knots for such a climb and cursed the wily pirate who meant to detain him. With a leap, he hoisted himself to the top.

  Terric was there. When he stayed still and quiet, chin raised, Eldric clenched the oar in his fists before he hurled it into the Commander’s gut. To his credit, Terric let the oar hit him before he clasped it.

  ‘Why?’ he demanded. Terric knew not to let Cressida off the ship. Knew there was danger. She could have died long before he got to her.

  The Commander eased the oar off his stomach and coughed. ‘I pointed you to where she went.’

  ‘You shouldn’t have let her off the ship and you know it.’

  ‘I am new at this loyalty thing, my friend. Maybe you can explain what to do when it is shared equally between two?’

  Eldric still itched to harm him. ‘Some day, you will feel my fist.’

  Terric grinned. ‘Not today. The child was taken by the healer to get fed and clothed. However, it appears your captive is trying to lower a boat on the other side and I promised to give her a head start.’

  Eldric cursed; he couldn’t fault his loyalty. ‘Eldric. My name is Eldric of Hawksmoor and when this is done, we will have words, Commander!’

  ‘Terric!’ he called out, but Eldric was already sprinting across the boat.

  * * *

  ‘I won’t ask if you ever give up, because I know the answer to it,’ Eldric said, enclosing her from behind and oddly, gently, extracting her fingers so they didn’t burn on the ropes. ‘But some day, Archer, you will tell me why.’

  His gentleness irritated her. Cressida wrenched her arm out of his and punched him in the heart with the heel of her palm. ‘We won’t have some day! You let him live. You left him capable of making decisions that will ensure our death. My sister’s, too.’

  ‘I didn’t let him live,’ he said, attempting to grab her free hand. She wouldn’t let him. ‘You saw his head wound. He bled.’

  ‘Worse! Someone came and extracted him.’

  ‘When would they have done that? We were right next door. I was dragging bodies inside.’

  ‘We were both inside. They could have sneaked past us, or worse, they could have been already in the house and listening to everything my father said. Do you know the information extracted? What that could do?’

  ‘No one was in that room or house. We were both there—when I came in wouldn’t they have declared themselves to fight me?’

  She poked him. ‘You don’t know the lengths he goes to train us. I waited in the rafters of his home for
hours before he decided to acknowledge my presence.’

  He didn’t want to think of her training, or what that madman had put her through. They were done with his schemes. Whatever she’d suffered from before was over.

  ‘Let him come. I know what the bastard looks like now. I know exactly who he is.’

  She laughed. ‘No, you don’t. Only I realise who he is, what he is capable of, what he will do.’

  ‘And so you’ll kill him?’

  He caught her hand, clasped it tightly in his. ‘You kill him and another will kill you. I won’t have you die.’

  She wrenched her fingers free, but he tightened his grip on her palm. ‘You don’t care for my death!’

  ‘That’s not true. We need to talk.’

  ‘No, we don’t. I need to find my father and end this.’

  ‘You would leave your sister behind on this ship?’

  Her sister. Terrible, horrible decisions left to her. She’d make them. She’d always make them. ‘You said her name, and she recognised it. You know who she belongs to. You can take her back to...to her happy home.’

  ‘You believe I’ll return her.’ She felt his exhale along her cheek. ‘You trust me with her.’

  ‘No!’

  ‘Which is it? Either you trust me with your sister, or you don’t.’

  She didn’t know. She knew what she needed to do, what action to take. But for feelings? She wanted to lean and fight against the warm support Eldric provided.

  ‘Cress, there are things I—’

  That name. It, too, was contradiction inside her. She loved and hated it. Wrenching free, she jabbed her knuckles just under his ribs. ‘My name is Cressida. Greek, meaning treachery. That’s what he called me, then made me...made me a treacherous killer! Don’t you dare shorten it. Don’t you dare make it out that we have endearments. What am I to call you, then?’

  Another jab under his ribs had him sidestepping away from her. She immediately felt the cold.

  ‘You can insult me with names many times, I’d welcome them,’ he said, ‘but we’ll talk first!’