“Who are you?” she asked.
The man walked to stand in front of Daley, who immediately quieted his struggles. “I am Lord Daniel Stroud. You are Countess of Kilkenny, and that leaves this young man here. What is your name?”
“Daley,” came the quiet response.
“Who is this beautiful young man?” he asked, finally turning away from him and walking a couple of steps toward Ryann.
“He is my stable boy,” she responded, but she was sure Daley was in dreadful danger.
He gave a quick glance back at Daley and nodded. “You care for your peasants well.”
He turned back around and went back to Daley, his hand reached out toward his face, and the boy pulled away. His punishment was swift as Stroud backhanded him. He staggered and was caught by one of the men behind him. The man reached out again and cupped his cheek, as he stood there dazed, his thumb caressing just under his eye.
“What do you want?” Ryann asked. It all happened so quickly, she forced herself to remain calm. Panic had no place here.
Stroud turned back to Ryann, dropping his hand away. “I want that bastard Garrick to pay for all he has done.”
“You think taking me will do that?”
He chuckled, “I’m not taking you. As a matter of fact I’m leaving you here.” He turned back to Daley, “but I’m taking him with me.” He motioned to the two men to do just that. Daley tried to bolt, then thrashed and kicked to no avail.
“Take her too if you must. Don’t separate us,” Daley pleaded.
Stroud walked to where his men stopped, and the boy became docile as he looked up. “I’ll do whatever you want if you let me stay with her.”
“My dear boy, you’ll do whatever I want anyway.” The response was cold, the assured tone sent a tremor skittering up her spine.
It was a convulsing, screaming Daley who was dragged from the hall.
Stroud walked back to Ryann, but his eyes fell beyond her shoulder, to the man behind her. “You and your men have one hour to catch up before dark.”
The chuckle that came from behind her made her grow cold inside, and then Stroud was gone. She sat silently for a moment, trying to weigh her options, but she couldn’t get beyond the first step, which was to come up with even one.
She counted five men total, and no one was near the entry that led from the hall and deeper into the cavernous hole. The hole was unwelcoming in its darkness, but here she hoped for a chance to hide. She sprang away in a full run, before the men could gather themselves. The darkness engulfed her as she crossed the threshold.
~ ~ ~ ~
Garrick hoped the speed they reached Lenox would be a surprise to Stroud, the only possible advantage he saw for them. Even with hard riding, it took four days to reach the keep, men and horses were exhausted as they rode into the courtyard. The fact the gates weren’t closed tightly against him told him immediately, Stroud was not there.
“Lord Fenton, is all well?” Liam, his commander at Lenox, asked as he rushed from inside the keep.
“I was told Stroud took siege upon Lenox.”
“No my lord, all is well here.”
Garrick turned, wishing he had Marcus at his side, but instead it was Christopher.
“What is it?” the guard snapped at Garrick’s scowl.
“I think there is trouble at Kilkenny,” Garrick said, as dread set in.
“There wouldn’t be if I had been allowed to stay there,” Christopher ground out, as he jerked his horse around.
“Stop, you will not get far on that exhausted beast,” Garrick commanded. “See that we get two of the fastest horses here.” Then he turned to Christopher, “We’ll leave as soon as we get a meal and some provisions.”
Christopher saw the sense in what Garrick said, and wearily climbed from his horse’s back. The poor animal was exhausted. Sweat had been building on her for two days, her head hung tiredly, and she looked ready to drop. Stable boys came out and began taking horses, while Garrick directed Christopher inside.
He sat the guard next to him on the dais as they awaited their hurriedly prepared meal. It didn’t take long before Chloe came to him. She was the sexiest woman Garrick ever laid eyes on, until he met Alena. She was tall, tall enough even to look him in the eye. She had vibrant red hair that glowed with good health, round soft brown eyes that were always smoldering. Her body was perfectly shaped with flaring hips and nicely rounded breasts. Her legs were long and nicely shaped, he could feel them even now wrapped around him with her ankles locked behind his back.
She slid between him and the table, her breasts pressed against him. “How was your trip?” she asked. Her voice was low and seductive, almost like a cat’s purr.
“It went well. Met my future wife,” he said, watching her. She was cunning, that was apparent, and she didn’t like one bit that he would soon be married.
“But she is not here with you so that means you need a woman,” she said, sliding into his lap, her hands going to the skin at his neck, to stroke it gently.
Garrick grabbed her by the wrist and pinned it at her side. Instead of shoving her off, which was his first impulse, he pressed her tighter into his lap. She feared him, like everyone, but she was smart, and knew once the Bastard’s men deflowered her, she lost a number of chances in life. So she made the best of it and used her body to get what she wanted, from any man who had anything to offer. Garrick paid her well for her services, it kept her coming to his bed, even after she saw the scars and the darkness that lay within, but he did not trust her. Garrick was no fool, and to outright spurn a beautiful woman, was as smart as driving a sword into ones foot.
“I need a woman more than ever, but I leave again as soon as I eat this meal that is coming now.” He shot her a look she easily interpreted, and she left quietly.
The trip that took four days took a little over two on the return trip. Horses and riders were exhausted as they rode into the courtyard of Kilkenny. Marcus met him on the steps.
“She was taken,” he said, as Garrick and Christopher made the first step.
“By whom?” Garrick demanded, but he knew there was only one man who would dare.
“I don’t know, her guard was killed, but we found no trace of her or Daley.”
“No trail or anything?” Christopher asked, the anger and concern for the Countess exploding from him as he glared at the man who was left to protect her.
“Nothing,” Marcus said, tolerating the anger for the concern it was.
“How long has she been gone?” Garrick asked, his unease from the past two days increased tenfold as he watched the concern build like a cloud on her guard’s face.
“Four days,” Marcus said. “I wonder if the Countess has talked Daley into helping her get away?”
“Never say such a thing again,” Christopher said turning, with a great deal of vehemence as he advanced on Marcus. “She is honor bound to wed Lord Fenton and she will not bring dishonor to herself or her people.”
“A veritable saint,” Garrick replied sarcastically.
“I hope you know her well enough before you wed to know she could never kill those men. Someone else has done this and taken the Countess. The only reason you haven’t found tracks is you haven’t looked in the right place.” Christopher then turned on Garrick, “They didn’t look in the right place because they don’t know this land, which is why I should have been left here.”
“If you want to live to see her again you best see to our horses,” Garrick threatened. Christopher shot a scathing look to his lord, then to Marcus, before walking away.
“I’m sorry I let this happen,” Marcus said with a great deal of sorrow on his face.
“Just rally the men and hope Christopher knows what he’s talking about.”
~ ~ ~ ~
Awareness began to return to Ryann slowly. She was leaning against something cold, she could feel the hard smoothness against her cheek. She tried to raise her head, but the pain slammed into her, making the edges of her
consciousness crash back in, as the darkness engulfed her again.
Sometime later she was aware of the coldness against her cheek. She didn’t try to move, but leaned against it, trying to get a sense of where she was. She felt the shackles around her wrists, binding them together, and she knew ultimately to the wall of the dungeon. She could smell the stench of it. Darkness surrounded her, and she felt close to panic.
She had to stay calm, she chastised herself. She was having a hard time remembering the events that brought her here. The harder she tried to remember, the worse her head hurt. Daley, he took the boy for nefarious reasons. Then reality dawned on her and she remembered how she came to be shackled to the wall. The men, how they hurt her, violated her and shown her no mercy. She vomited as the world spun out of control. It could have been hours or days ago. Her body ached to the core, she didn’t want to move, didn’t want to feel the agony, so she closed her eyes and let the darkness take her.
~ ~ ~ ~
He could feel Christopher watching him. Garrick knew the other man blamed him for taking him away and leaving Ryann without his protection. Now she was with Stroud, he had no doubt her disappearance after his mad dash for Lenox wasn’t coincidental, and Garrick was worried. Stroud would do anything to get in the way of Garrick’s plans. That might mean the Countess’s death, though he didn’t think so or they would have done it on the road alongside his men. No, Stroud had a plan for her, and it scared him because it did not bode well for Ryann. Fear didn’t sit well with Garrick, until he rode back into Lenox and found the reason for their flight had been a ruse, he may have never felt such an emotion.
“Why wouldn’t he take her to his keep?” he snapped at Christopher, who argued against Garrick’s proposal they would find her there.
“I don’t know,” Christopher replied irritably. One look at Garrick’s face brought an explanation from him. “Marcus said there were no tracks. There is one section of road that is always wet. If there were no tracks there, they did not go that way. They took a different route. If Marcus found no tracks there, they did not go north .”
“So that leaves the village,” Garrick replied. Riding, attacking, and killing, that was what he did, what he was good at. He was not good at waiting, planning, hoping.
“No one in the village saw any strange riders that morning.” Garrick studied this man who had such a fondness for the Countess he was willing to die for her. What kind of man would die for a woman? A woman he had no attachments to, other than his duty. His eyes narrowed, did Christopher fancy himself in love with Ryann. Was that why he was so intent on keeping her near him? He was a handsome man, he certainly didn’t have the scars. The bigger question was did Ryann love him? Which led him to the question could she ever love a man like himself? Would that ever matter to him, because he was sure he was far beyond the capacity to love, if such a thing did exist?
“Which leaves the road heading into the forest west of Kilkenny,” Christopher said, pointing to the road he drew with the charcoal. “It circles back around, and then heads deeper into the woods to an old fortress that has been abandoned for many years. Since no one mentioned an army passing through Carsl when we traveled through, then I would think it’s a sure bet they took her to the fortress. At the very least that road turns north again, and they could be gone now. But if they went that way I bet is has something to do with the old fortress because it is not an easy road to traverse.”
Christopher finished and looked at Garrick expectantly, who narrowed his eyes. “How would you know this?”
“It is my business to know what dangers are near the Countess. To better protect her.”
Garrick said not a word, but studied him.
“If I was here I could have stopped this,” there was a plea in his voice, as if it were not too late for Garrick to change his mind.
“If you were here, you would be dead too,” Garrick said, stepping forward and picking his helm up off the table. He paused, turning he added, “Stroud is a bad man.”
“I guess coming from you, he must be pure wickedness.”
The side of Garrick’s face rose in a smirk, bunching up the scarred cheek, and made it look frightening. “An expert are we? Are you coming or do you want to stay here with the women?” Garrick asked, strolling quickly toward the entrance.
Christopher scowled and grabbed his own sword and helm, rushing after the departing Garrick. It seemed as if the Countess would be changing one evil for another, but at least with Garrick he could be near.
~ ~ ~ ~
“What does it look like to you?” Garrick asked Marcus. The two men along with Christopher, silently approached the old fortress, keeping to the trees. The structure was just that, a falling down wall that enclosed several small buildings that were also in the process of falling down, and a larger structure in the back, that by all appearances, was built into the cliff that gave it a natural defense. Unless someone wanted to descend several hundred feet on ropes, it was impenetrable from the rear.
“It looks like there’s no one around.”
Garrick nodded solemnly, as he contemplated what to do. The place could be empty or it could be a trap. Stroud was one of the many individuals who descended from a long line of power, and did not look kindly on Garrick, a whore’s bastard, just seizing power. It didn’t bode well for the future, if the lower class could just take what they wanted. Stroud was intent on not only taking back the lands Garrick held, but on slaying him as well, as an example to all those not fit to wipe his boots on.
“Gather the men. We’re riding in hard and fast. I want Ros to take his men straight through the front gate. Daniel’s through the gap in the wall to the right, Tomas to the left. The three of us will go through the hole in the wall at the main structure a moment before they make their move. If Ryann is here and she has Stroud’s men guarding her, we’ll have the element of surprise by being inside before the main force hits.”
“If they have the Countess and they make a move toward her, I’ll kill them,” Christopher stated with finality.
“If there is anyone here, they die,” Garrick replied, with a cold confidence before moving back to his horse.
Garrick leaned forward in his saddle, resting his hands on Malik’s withers. He felt anxiety curling in the pit of his stomach. When was the last time he felt like this? Had he ever felt like this before a battle? It just kept running through his mind that Ryann was in there and might be killed as he went riding into the fortress. But what choice did he have? If she wasn’t here, he had to find her. She was his, granted by the King, and the fury that a man like Stroud would look upon her, let alone take her, continued to build within him.
He heard the call that signaled all were in position. He dug his heels into Malik and he jumped forward with the other horses. They thundered through the hole in the fence, skidding to a halt in front of the stone building, sending their horses to their haunches as they catapulted from their saddles. Garrick was in the lead as they rushed through the main entrance, the dirt floor silencing their hurried steps. In the entry chamber nothing stirred, silence reined. Garrick motioned Marcus to light the torch. He waited patiently for the torch to be lit, as far as anyone else would be able to tell. In his mind he cursed the man’s lack of speed while lighting the torch mounted on the wall, when all his future plans depended on the Countess living. The torch flared, but the light was not enough to force away the gaping dark abyss that led deeper into the structure. Chaos erupted outside as the trio stepped into the darkness, only banished by the flickering light.
The stone structure was just the face of this large labyrinth of chambers and corridors. They had to have moved into the bowls of the mountain now, the air was cold and damp, the walls and ceilings were chiseled from stone, and the floor alternated between dirt and stone. On and on they wound. They encountered no one, not even the Countess. She had to be here, if she wasn’t here, there were an endless number of possibilities. He felt as if each one raced through his mind twenty
times by the time they came back out into the courtyard. His men reported not a living soul stirred. Many of the men balked at entering the stone structure, fearing the dead were in abundance here. Garrick had to bite his tongue to keep from lashing out at their foolishness.
Garrick left his men in the courtyard and went inside to do a more thorough search. In one of the deep corridors, underneath a pile of wooden crates, was a hatch door that led deeper into darkness. Perhaps it was once an old dungeon? The smell from the rot and decay on the cool damp air rose out of the hole. Garrick stepped back from the abyss and he felt the fear rise in him again.
A step was barely discernible in the glow of the torch. Without hesitation Christopher rushed forward, and quickly disappeared into the darkness yawning up at them. Marcus glanced to Garrick, who gave a short nod and proceeded forward, illuminating the way for the two of them as they descended. Catching up to Christopher at the bottom of the steps, Garrick took a quick assessment of his surroundings, looking left then right. A third passage wound its way behind the steps.
Off the corridors were rooms of different sizes, chains were drilled into the stone, and many were not empty, but held the wrists of skeletons. The place was sinister, an evil place where people were placed and forgotten. It was a grave for many who were sentenced to a slow death that comes only after hunger has eaten the inside of their stomach, pain has been the only assurance they weren’t dead, and madness had eaten its way into their brains. Garrick heard tales of this place, but never did he imagine the stories to be true and hidden away on his own property.
Angie Arms - Flame Series 03 Page 5
