Angie Arms - Flame Series 03

by The Darkest Flame

  Amusement lit up the other woman's face when Ryann turned quickly, nearly falling from her saddle, her surprise and joy were so great. "I know you will think of me what you will, despite what I say. I have known the touch of only one man, and I do not care to ever feel another."

  "But what of Marcus?"

  "What of him?" she asked, and there was a note in her voice Ryann could not decipher.

  "I have seen the way you look at one another."

  "I sometimes wonder if it could be any different. Sometimes I find myself even craving, but I will not be anyone's whore. Never again."

  "Is that why you fight?" From the corner of her eye Ryann saw the other woman shrug.

  "When I fight I feel in control. I would rather die than be at a man's mercy."

  Alena's eyes were back on her and Ryann felt uncomfortable, as if the statement was intended just for her. Was it wrong for her to want Garrick to wipe the memory of the other men from her? No, it could not be wrong, because their circumstances were far different. Ryann had no choice but to marry, the good King made sure of that. She was glad it was Garrick, for she was glad to be at his mercy, to be called his wife, for no harm would ever come to her again, as long as that man was by her side. This woman beside her had a choice, and she had made it.

  Suddenly Garrick appeared by her side, just as the day waned into evening. Halvor called his army to halt, and Garrick swiftly swung to the ground, moving quickly to her side. She handed the baby to him, realizing they would need to find a name for her soon. He quickly thrust the baby into Alena's hands, and she nearly laughed at the other woman's appalled face.

  Ryann turned her gaze elsewhere, to keep from embarrassing the woman, as she made to slide from Fleet. The hands around her waist startled her, and her gasp made Fleet shy. The hands fell away just as she found herself suspended in midair. She heard the snorts of the other horses nearby, just as she hit the ground hard. The earth seemed to shake from the shifting horses above her, and then she was crying out when she felt a hoof graze her head. There was yelling, she could hear Garrick's authoritative voice, as if the giant beasts would heed his words. Strong hands grabbed her, and she was lifted from the ground, and cradled against a broad chest.

  "Are you hurt?" she heard the panic in her husband's voice, and suddenly had the urge to soothe him.

  "My head," she said, raising a hand to feel the back of her head.

  Her hand was intercepted, and his strong hand was upon her head, gently feeling for an injury. When he touched the place where she was struck, she sucked in her breath and he immediately pulled away.

  "The baby," she heard Alena's voice, just over Garrick's shoulder.

  "Just take care of her!" Garrick snapped, before walking away from the crowd gathered, with Ryann still in his arms. He took her to one of the wagons, sat her gently upon it, then climbed up beside her. "Let me have a look," he said, in a voice that plainly mirrored his concern and fear.

  She sat quietly beside him, her head bent obediently forward, as he examined the wound. "It does not require stitches, and the bump does not seem large enough to be of much concern." He looked toward the men that made up his army spread out in their close proximity, before he straightened from her, and looked down upon her. "This pleases me."

  "Is that why you threw me beneath the horse?" she asked him.

  "I did not..."

  Ryann laughed lightly, laying a gentle hand upon his arm. "I only tease you."

  Garrick studied her as if he had never been teased before, and she supposed he wasn't likely to have been the kind of man one teased. That awkward grimace came to his face, and she knew he was finding humor in the taunting.

  "You tempt me beyond all reason my lady," he said, in his quiet voice that flopped her stomach, and made her forget to breath. "I will leave you to rescue Lena while I see to my men."

  Ryann could not keep from rolling her eyes. The grimace came across his face, bunching the scars, and Ryann had a nearly overwhelming urge to reach up and kiss those scars. Maybe even follow the one from his neck all the way up to his ear, or in reverse. She did not know in which direction she desired to travel more. He climbed from the wagon and walked away, leaving her to stare after him, admiring his easy gate, the authoritative bearing of the man that was her husband.

  ~ ~ ~ ~

  Grayness enveloped the land, clouds obscured the rising moon, and dimmed the already waning light of the day. The baby fussed restlessly, even after he saw Ryann feed her. He approached his wife and the baby, admiring the sway of Ryann's hips and the small steps she took, as she bounced the baby while pacing in a small line back and forth. By midday tomorrow they would have arrived back at Fenton, and by this time tomorrow he would have had a good taste of his wife. The thought made him harden as he advanced toward her, feeling like an animal advancing on its prey.

  "It has been a hard day for her." Ryann's face looked strained, as he came to stand looking down at her. She bounced the baby lightly in her arms.

  "Have you eaten?" he asked, holding his arms out to take the baby from her. He still felt nervous that he would handle the tiny thing too roughly, or would drop it, not support its head properly. There were a number of things that ran through his head when the baby was in his arms.

  Ryann nodded, glancing up at him as he bent close, her blue eyes spellbound him, and he felt his entire body shudder. She settled the baby's weight into his arms, and suddenly his thoughts fled from her to the nerve racking task of holding the child. For a brief moment Ryann's scent surrounded him. How could the woman still smell like sunshine and the sweetest of roses?

  He ran the words over and over again in his head, before asking her to walk with him. His initial urge was to command her to walk with him, but he could not forget to handle her differently. Gently, coaxing and not demanding.

  She smiled in response to the question, as if her entire day centered on a walk with him. He drew in a shaky breath, and turning away, offered his arm to her. Gently her fingers slid into the crook of his elbow, coming to rest on the inside, the sensitive area protected there. How could her touch feel like fire?

  He walked slowly, accommodating her short stride. They walked in silence for a few content moments, before she broke the silence.

  "The baby seems to grow stronger, and is crying less." As if to demonstrate, her cries began growing less intense.

  "Is it?" he asked, cradling the tiny thing gently, while paying attention to the terrain as he led her away from all the people. They were closing in on him. All he wanted was space so he could touch his beautiful wife again. He thought about it all day. When he should have been devoting his undivided attention to their journey, he found his mind drifting away to the feel of her, and the dream of how she would feel beneath him. He not only craved it, but needed it as surely as he needed the air to breath.

  "You know, you really need to stop calling her it," she admonished him, with a pat of her fingers sending lightning through his veins.

  "Then you need to name her," he said, glancing down at the pretty little face of the baby, with the red curly hair and green eyes. Every red head he had ever seen was a hellion, and he worried that this one whose innocent eyes looked back at him, would be no different.

  "What would you suggest?" she asked, taking him by surprise.

  "Why would I have a suggestion?" he asked.

  "I don't know," she replied. She walked so closely, folded protectively against his side, that he felt her shrug.

  Suddenly he wanted to have a suggestion for her, for it sounded as if she had hopes that he would. "Spring," he said, the only name he could think of. He was not even sure if a person could be named spring, but that was what he thought when he looked at the little girl in his arms. With her bright green eyes she looked the epitome of the young innocence he associated with the season of life.

  "Spring," Ryann said, testing the name. "I think that will do as well as any other name. Seems quite fitting."

  Her praise
and choice made him feel like he was beaming from within. He pulled his arm a little closer to his side, pulling her closer against him. They walked until a small stand of trees separated them from the others, blocking out the campfires and noise that came with an army settling in for a night. The grayness was quickly giving way to the night, and a feeling of peace settled over Garrick.

  "Do you think I will like my new home?" Ryann asked, releasing his arm and turning to stare up at him, with her blue eyes darkened by the falling night.

  He never gave it much thought. Kilkenny was a much warmer, welcoming keep. It had obviously been touched by the hands of many women, turning it into a place of welcome. Kinsey had not had the benefit of a woman's touch. He and his men ruled it, and never had anyone thought about giving a woman free rein to warm the cold floor and stark walls. He had no tapestries, and the old keep had no benefit of doors to keep the heat inside the chambers. He had not spent a great deal of time at the keep, his only time there was spent in thought for his next campaign, and relieving his need with the whores he kept nearby for he and his men. It was a place that showed plainly he and his men were hard warriors, and nothing in the place boasted of comfort. He suddenly hoped his wife would soften it, warm it.

  "It is nothing like Kilkenny. I fear you will not."

  He heard her sigh. "It does not matter, as long as I can be by my husband's side."

  "Do not fear. You will be the lady of Kinsey, and can fix those things you do not like."

  "Surely your keep is the way you wish it to be. You have been lord there for many years now," she said, bending to pull the blanket more securely around Spring's head, to ward off the chill creeping into the night.

  "I do not think of the things a woman would think of. The keep is only a place for me to sleep when I am not at war."

  "Will you be at war often?"

  Her question was like a slap to his face. He took a step back, unsure of the response, and his foot fell into empty space as he toppled backward. Instinct made him protect the baby, and not try to break his fall. Though it was more of a stumble on the uneven ground with his arms wrapped securely around Spring, he landed on his back, his shoulder colliding against a rock, sending needles of pain radiating from it.

  "My lord!" Ryann exclaimed, leaning down over him.

  The child, who had fallen fast asleep only whimpered slightly at the jostling. Doing the best he could to hold the child toward Ryann, he was relieved when she took her so he could see to himself, and the injury he felt three times a fool for incurring.

  "Are you hurt?"

  "No," he said, as he pulled himself to his feet. Despite the mind numbing pain as he worked the shoulder back and forth, he was not a man used to telling anyone what ails him. "It is time to return to camp." He was aware his voice did not sound as sure as it normally did, but the pain from his shoulder, he now knew was dislocated, made his mind a little hazy.

  ~ ~ ~ ~

  "I often go for walks, but have not found myself with a dislocated shoulder," Marcus couldn't help goading Garrick as he felt around his shoulder.

  Garrick gritted his teeth as he told the story to his ungrateful friend standing nearby

  "I was taking advice from your woman," he gritted out between clinched teeth, when Marcus moved the shoulder slightly.

  "I'm not his woman," Alena said so quickly, Garrick felt Marcus's unease as he stood against his back. It was obvious his friend was still not happy with their arrangement. Garrick sat upon a stump with Marcus against his back, his knees pressed firmly to give leverage for what he had to do. As if he was taking his anger out on Garrick, his arm shot around his chest while the other gripped his shoulder firmly, a knee lodged against the back of it, and he jerked back sharply. Garrick gritted his teeth, never making a sound except the grind of his teeth together, as the pain exploded within him.

  "I did not tell you to yank your wife's hair from her head, throw her beneath horses, or perform like a jester and fall before her." From the sound of her voice Garrick knew she detected Marcus's displeasure, and was ready to turn her own anger toward him.

  "For now on I will deal with my wife my own way," Garrick said, as the pain turned to a throbbing ache.

  "With your rough hands and sour mood?"

  "I will show you rough hands when I turn you over my knee and discipline you as a child should be."

  He heard Alena gasp, and she took a step toward him. Rising swiftly he towered over the tall woman. "Tread carefully Alena, I am not in the mood for your tongue." Garrick turned away, listening for the sound of feet ready to attack his back as he retreated, and was very glad tonight, of all nights, there were none. He had bungled her advice so badly he was done with it. There would be nothing left of his lovely bride if he continued down the path he was on by the time he took her to bed. She seemed not to be running from him as he expected, so he would be himself and force her if need be. He was not beyond that now. He wanted Ryann beneath him so badly, he would break her if need be, to get her there. With that thought in mind he went to check the night guards and catch some sleep himself, so he could be rested for the day he had not been able to push from his mind.

  Chapter 11

  Sitting atop its hill, Kinsey appeared every bit as unwelcoming as the first time she laid eyes upon Garrick. As if sensing her own discomfort, Spring set up a steady stream of cries as they pulled ever closer to her new home. Feeling the foreboding air, Ryann had to school herself so she would not join the baby in tears.

  She could tell Garrick riding beside her kept glancing weary looks her way, but she could not find the strength to make eye contact. She knew he would see her disappointment in the home he brought her to, and she could not do such a thing to him. She would find something to like about the place, of that she was sure. They rode into the courtyard, a handful of men, some appeared beyond fighting age, while others were yet to reach it, came out to take their horses. She waited patiently while Garrick dismounted, gave orders to one of those elderly men who immediately took Malik's reins, and led him in the direction he had come. She felt the electricity of anticipation course through her as soon as Garrick's big hands reached for her and closed around her waist. With no effort he plucked her from Fleet's back and she placed her hands upon his shoulders, as he set her upon the ground.

  A great wall of sound began within the hall, and Ryann knew the army was much faster to make it inside. Two women came from the hall, one with red hair that trailed nearly to her knees and a clinging tunic that left very little to the imagination. Her brown eyes were fearful, yet intent upon Garrick, as was the raven haired beauty that advanced with her.

  "You have arrived back," the raven haired woman said, in a sultry voice.

  Ryann saw the hesitancy wash over both their faces as they came to a sudden halt. Ryann looked up into her husband’s face and saw such a hard, menacing look it nearly brought fear to her own breast. The two women wasted no time offering half hearted curtsies, before turning and fleeing back into the hall.

  Ryann did not have to wonder long who those women were, and their purpose here. Disappointment washed over her. She had never imagined she would have to share Garrick with those kind of women within her own home. Anger suddenly flared within her, and she vowed to take care of that situation shortly, after she found a wet-nurse for Spring.

  "Come, the kitchens will be preparing a meal for us." He offered his arm and she took it with a smile, hoping he would not be angry with her when she cleared his keep of his whores. She would just have to tell him she would willingly take their places. Surely she could learn what they knew, so she could keep him satisfied.

  Stepping through the main doors and into the hall, Ryann's feet faltered. Never had she imagined the inside to be what she was looking upon. She saw them immediately, the women, some half dressed and the men already rutting upon them. The nearest trestle table had a woman upon it, her legs spread with a man grunting between them, and two more men next to him as if they were waiting i
n line. Another woman was bent over at the waist, her skirt pushed up and a man behind her hammering into her, while she held another man within her mouth. Ryann did not think such a thing was possible.

  She cast a glance at her husband, the muscles in his cheek twitching. His eyes cast straight ahead, his indomitable physique carrying him toward the head table, parting the sea of people. No one ventured near, behind her she could feel Marcus and Alena. What did she think of the carnal acts going on within the hall? Surely Garrick would have more respect for her than to throw her upon one of the tables and sate his lust before everyone.

  Reaching the dais Garrick led the way to the high-backed chairs. He paused for a moment, looking across the large chamber at his men. Ryann saw the scowl cross her husband’s face. This made her feel better that he would not like what was happening. She had no doubt it was only for her sake, the way those women had run out to greet him without her by his side, he would probably be one of those men panting between their legs. It wasn't difficult to find the red hair, her hair like a beacon, sitting atop one of the tables, and the man Roland reached for her, grabbing her by the ankle, and yanking her toward him. She screeched, apparently not happy with the rough turn of events. Unmindful of the injuries he would cause by doing so, he flipped her over onto the hard table, yanked up her skirts, and plunged in. His viciousness that had her crying out and trying to pull away, reminded Ryann all too well of her own experience with the act of sex. She wanted to go to her rescue, to the rescue of several of the women, for she was not the only one appearing to be handled too roughly.