by Arms, Angie
“I’ve waited a long time,” Damien declared with relish and began to peel her hands from him.
She screamed, refusing to let him go. He was unable to release her arms in addition to her legs at the same time. Then the hands grew rougher and it was Garrick and still she refused to release him. They struggled for terrifying moments before Garrick managed to peel her off. Before he could toss her over the side her foot gained purchase on the stone and lurched sideways throwing the big man off balance.
“Keri,” the voice of Damien came out in a whisper by her ear as the man lost his balance and plunged downward. Horrified she watched Damien fall until his body made a gruesome sound as it landed on the stones below.
Emotions flooded her as she raced down the steps to the courtyard. There lay Damien, one of his arms and one of his legs twisted painfully beneath him. His head flowed blood like a river where it had cracked. Damien was dead. She couldn’t help the sob that escaped her as she clung to him and the sorrow of it was ripped from her. So many emotions that when she gathered her senses she was kneeling beside Damien’s body with his dagger pressed to her chest. She looked around herself and saw the castle as it once was and knew the witch was nearby.
The fog inside her brain began to clear. She dropped the dagger and it clattered to the stones. One more look at Damien and her heart seized. It was the cold eyes of Garrick looking back at her and he raised a hand and wrapped his fingers around her throat seeking to choke the life from her.
“This isn’t real,” she told herself. She squeezed her eyes closed and chanted that knowledge inside her head. She knew now the witches could not physically hurt her since she had killed Liam, she felt that was the only death here tonight that had been real. Neither Damien nor Garrick was here and although a part of her feared Garrick he was Damien’s man and she felt that was important to The-dark-man. The only harm the witch could cause was through her mind games.
When she opened her eyes the fingers were no longer wrapped around her neck. The body before her was gone and she knelt in the courtyard of an abandoned castle. She scrambled to her feet with one thought to get as far away as quickly as possible and forget this nightmare ever existed because she would never be able to explain it to anyone.
~ ~ ~ ~
Rain poured down in slanting sheets from the sky, thunder clapped overhead followed closely by another bolt of blinding lightning as the two men ran across the courtyard. Their first stop was to the stable where all the horses still stood munching hay unaware the evil lurking about their safe haven.
Refusing to let that knowledge slow him, Damien quickly led Garrick from the stable and to the largest of the towers. They raced through the corridors, searched the chambers and rushed on as Damien began to grow frantic. As they neared the top of the tower atop the spiraling staircase that looked as if it could not support weight for much longer. A scream echoed from the chamber ahead. It was Cyrille’s voice, and Damien increased his speed, unmindful now of the perilous climb. Crashing through the aged door it exploded into the chamber, banging against the wall as it came off its hinges.
Cyrille stood in the middle of the room. A look of terrified horror was on his face as he stared blankly at the men who crowded into the room.
“Cyrille,” Damien yelled at his brother. Getting no response he walked forward and with his hand open smacked his brother soundly across the cheek. “Cyrille,” he yelled at him again and only then did he begin to get a response.
“Damien?” his brother’s confused voice asked.
“We have to find Keri and get out of this place?”
“She wants to kill her.”
Damien did not have time to tell him of the nightmare where he had plunged his sword into Danielle only to find it had been Keri all along. He had been so convinced of his deed he felt as if he should take his own life until Garrick had pulled him back to reality.
“Who?” Damien asked, not believing anything that happened in this place but keeping his brother talking so he would not lose him to the nightmares again.
“The witches,” Cyrille said as he looked at his brother with terrified desperation.
Damien gave his brother a shove toward the open door and despite his still dazed expression he hurried out it and down the steps. Damien did not think the witches only wished to kill Keri. They had trespassed and were also on the witches’ death list.
“Someone is fleeing,” Garrick said in a frantic voice as he tried to shove his way passed them. Damien stopped, doing some shoving of his own to get back to the small arrow slit to verify Garrick was not just seeing the beginning of another nightmare. Racing toward the gate in the pouring rain was a dark figure on horseback. A long cloak trailed behind the rider as they escaped this place of tortured minds. Garrick had taken the advantage and was well ahead of the two brothers on the race down the steps and this knowledge spurred Damien on. If it was Liam he did not care that Garrick caught him first but if it was Keri he would kill the man if he laid one hand on her.
Reaching the stables Damien scowled with Garrick already well ahead in the race to tack the horses. “You will not harm the Lady Keri if it is she who fled.” Damien’s voice brooked no doubt that what he said was to be taken as anything but an order. Garrick’s fingers did not slow in his task, nor did he give a response.
“Did you hear me?” Damien was just a few seconds behind in the readying of his horse.
“Yes Commander, I will not harm her.” Finished with the horse he led the prancing animal into the aisle and vaulted into the saddle. “I will in fact hand her over to you. You are my commander, rightfully earned.” With that he spurred his horse slackening the reins and they thundered from the building just as Damien and Cyrille took their horses’ bridles in their hands to lead them to the aisle.
~ ~ ~ ~
Keri’s heart hammered in her chest as she leaned low over her horse’s neck. The rain blinded her, the horse ran in a panic unable to see as Keri moved her toward the gate. They thundered under the uneven portcullis and into the blackness of the night and downpour. They followed, she could feel them. The horse seemed to feed off her panic, taking in great gulps of air, the sound thundering with that of her own heart and the thunder above.
She yanked the horse’s head down, keeping control of her, patting her neck knowing the wind would whip her encouraging voice away. The horse began to settle and they raced the demons that were chasing her. Deep into the night, the rain continued pouring down in earnest, the chill threatened to turn the torrential downpour into snow.
The horse grew hot beneath her, and Keri could feel her body grow slick with the sweat mixing with the ever falling rain. Her breath labored but Keri pressed on, her fear driving her forward. She would not be a prisoner again. She would not go meekly anywhere and by God she would not let those bitches play their twisted mind games with her! The horse stumbled, its legs trying to slow from the frantic pace it had kept for countless time in the black abyss she ran. The horse let out a mighty wheeze, tried to regain its rhythm in stride but the legs gave out from underneath her and she fell, knocking Keri sideways. The horse landed on top of her leg and hip before she came to rest.
The breath was knocked from Keri and pain shot throughout her body. She felt the moan coming but suppressed it as she heard the hoof beats thundering above the rain. Keri pulled and tugged, even tried clawing her way from beneath the heaving horse but she could not budge her. Her pursuers were upon her, one horse dodging quickly before they were trod upon as they loomed from out of the darkness. Hands were touching her, a voice called her name as the falling rain threatened to drown her.
“Keri,” strong hands wiped the hair that was plastered to her forehead back from her face as they lifted her from the ground. “Where are you hurt?” Gentle hands lay her back down in the mud and she felt them on her hips trying to pull her from beneath the horse. “Keri.” The hands lifted her again and pulled her upward as more voices joined. Her face came close to another and i
ts features began to come clear in the haze of the breaking dawn as the rain suddenly ended.
“Damien?” she asked seeing the gray-green eyes of the man she thought to never see again.
The man did not respond but crushed her to him, taking what breath she had just gained. Strong arms wrapped around her and she felt as if she might be squeezed in two. This was the real Damien, she knew within an instant of being wrapped in his arms, it was Damien because it felt right. Ever the leader he called to the other two men who were with him to get the horse up. Slowly the animal shifted and Damien lifted Keri from beneath it. Their clothes were soaked through to the skin but he could care less as he crushed Keri against him, relief so stark it took all his senses away and he allowed it, trusting his two men to guard them. Reaching the bank, the ground still wet, but out of the mud of the trail they had been on, he lay Keri down and fell on the ground beside her.
“Do you hurt?” he asked, his hands coming out to cup her face with a tenderness that made Keri want to weep.
Her hand fluttered up to cover his. Unable to form the words she shook her head and rested her cheek against his palm, enjoying the warmth of it. Not content with only the small contact Damien scooped her into his arms and cradled her while their horses rested from the grueling chase.
~ ~ ~ ~
“What will you do?” Cyrille asked as they prepared the horses to travel. Half the day had been spent allowing Keri to rest. Her fatigue had taken over shortly after a fire had been struck and the men set about drying their gear. Even now she lay curled up in a ball soaking in the warmth of the flames sound asleep.
Damien looked away from the woman, scowling at his brother. “Richard has ordered it, what do you think I will do?”
“So we ride to Winchester?” Cyrille asked without hesitation.
“I’ve done too many things in my life in the name of my king to stop now,” Damien said with a heavy heart as he went to wake Keri.
Keri rode in his saddle with him, her mare was poorly conditioned and the run had left her severely depleted so had to be left behind. Even if she had been fit enough to complete the journey Damien would have still insisted she ride in front of him. They rode in silence that seemed to grow heavier the closer they drew to the city.
“Do you take me to Richard?”
“Aye, I do.”
He felt a shiver run through her and he brought her closer against him. They rode in silence until they made camp. Morning would find them at the city and Keri would become the king’s prisoner. A meager meal was prepared and he noticed right away Keri only distractedly played with her food. He wanted to admonish her, make her eat to keep her strength but he found he could not eat either. Much would be decided tomorrow or in the days to follow.
~ ~ ~ ~
The longer Keri lay near the fire waiting on dawn the more bile threatened to rise from her stomach. She feared to get up, with Garrick the one holding the watch she feared what he would do if she were to be alone with him. She told herself she was being foolish, Damien’s men had the utmost loyalty to him and although Garrick seemed cold he had earned Damien’s trust. Finally, she rolled to her feet, pulling on the boots that were still serving her well. Wrapping a blanket about her shoulders she eased into the nearby underbrush to relieve herself. Finished she lingered in the quiet shadows for some time, enjoying the coolness of the night against her cheek. Would she be placed in a tower or a dungeon? She hoped with a great deal of desperation she would be placed in the tower, she would rather die than find herself in the darkness again.
Even the dungeon was preferred to the dark power of the witches. Sylva wielded such a vast evil power it could consume anyone in its path. Even now her mind was filled with the fear the witches would find her again. Perhaps the King himself would become their pawn.
“It is time to return to your bed my lady,” the deep voice of Garrick said as the man materialized it seemed from nowhere.
She started at his sudden appearance but remained standing in her momentary space of peace. “I am wondering if you would do me a favor and just turn your back so I might slip away.” What a coward she was, she realized too late as her voice came out as a desperate plea.
“I have not only vowed to the king himself I will bring you to him, but I serve Damien with my loyalty. It is for him I cannot allow you to leave.”
“Damien knows no loyalty.”
“If he would not be displeased with me I would kill you now for such an insult. Damien made vows to the crown long before any vows you think he may have given to you.”
“He has given me no vows. For that would go against his majesty’s order.”
Garrick made a sneering sound and Keri turned to the darkly hulking man beside her. “He is foolish where you are concerned. He would give up his honor if you but asked him.”
“I wish not to take his honor.”
“His vow to his king is his honor and is all he has to show for many years of war. If you have any honor you will go before the king without further trouble.”
“What if he wishes to kill me?”
“Then you will die with honor,” Garrick replied with cold certainty. “What else do you have?”
Keri numbly moved back to her blankets and lying down lay awake, Garrick’s words doing nothing to help drowsiness to take hold. She listened to the watch change hands and wondered which brother it was. The clouds obscured the stars and made the glowing light of the fire the only light that chased the shadows to the fringes of their small camp. What was out there they couldn’t see? Was there something out there stalking them, waiting for a moment to attack. A shiver ran up her spine and she nearly screeched when Cyrille dropped awkwardly to his knees beside her.
On her inward take of breath the big man clamped a hand over her mouth to keep her quiet. She nodded exhaling quietly as he removed his hand. He motioned for her to follow so she climbed from the warmth of her blankets and crept after him. All the way to the horses they went then Cyrille immediately plucked her from the ground and sat her atop his horse.
“What are you doing?” she whispered trying to keep her voice as low as possible so she wouldn’t awaken the other two men.
“Taking you away from here.”
“No,” she said trying to swing a leg back over in order to slide from the horse. Cyrille pressed her back down as he swung up behind her. “I have to go to Winchester,” she said firmly. “Put me down.”
“No, Damien would want me to.”
Keri settled quietly to ponder the short statement. Would it really dishonor Damien if she just couldn’t be found? As for her own honor she never professed any loyalty to anyone other than her husband and he was dead. Why not try to save herself? It would mean she would be alone for the rest of her life as she tried to remain hidden. What kind of life would she be gaining? She almost told Cyrille to turn back around but the instinct for survival left her mute as she clung to the quickly moving horse as they covered ground already covered. Some time before dawn Cyrille dropped her by the road and bid her seek refuge in the next town before turning and thundering back toward his brother’s camp.
Keri stood on the road the dark night enveloping her, the fear of what lay ahead overshadowing her will to be gone from the place. The sound of the hoof beats soon faded and she wondered if she would ever see either of the brothers again. Slowly she turned and headed for the town. A village really. She did not pretend she would not stick out like a sore thumb and had no ready answer for her presence in a place where everyone would know everyone.
She should just keep walking, that’s what she should do. What if Cyrille was right and Damien would be glad they had saved him from making a decision he would never be able to live with? What if he wouldn’t be and Cyrille told him just where to find her? Was she really going to be foolish enough to let them decide her future? Her feet came to a slow halt. She could try to make it to her father, he might help her. What if he did and Damien or the king found out? She couldn’t put him
in jeopardy. As she came to the little village she kept walking silently so she would not wake the sleeping villagers. She was able to travel three days before seeking refuge after sheer exhaustion and the sparse food she was able to supply for herself wore her down.
Chapter 17
Four months later
Keri stepped back and scowled at the work she had just completed. She looked to Grigson, who stood nearby watching her. The old man probably could see little of what she was actually doing but he had stood by diligently while she made her first saddle. For four months she had been learning the trade, enjoying the land of the Cotswolds and the freedom peasants ironically had. The village had little to offer to anyone but herself, “a long journey from anywhere,” the people were fond of saying
The people here were so kind, welcoming her in and immediately suggesting her employment with Grigson the saddle maker. They had asked a thousand questions or more about where she was from and how she had come to be among them. Her weak claim was she had woken up on the road to the village and did not know who or where she was. She reasoned total ignorance would be an easier story to keep straight than an elaborate one.
Grigson had been depleted by age which had taken the strength in his hands and the sight to be able to see the fine details that had made his reputation as a fine saddle maker legendary. It was something the man had apparently denied happening for it took some convincing from the village, by this time surely the entire village population in its entirety had all turned out to help the poor wandering waif.
Though it got monotonous at times she had grown fond of the old man if not the work. Grigson had a soft spot that his gruff attitude hid but everyone in the village knew him and adored him. It didn’t take the two long to settle into their daily lives and it didn’t take Grigson long to accept her and even come to appreciate her help which allowed the kindly man to turn out beautiful work once again.
