The Lethal Flame (Flame Series)

by Arms, Angie

  “You did an adequate job,” Grigson said patting her on her back.

  “How do you know, you can’t see the hand in front of your face,” Keri teased. “Besides it looks ridiculous.” She looked at the side saddle contraption that looked as if it would be a plush chair that sat sideways on the horse and thus the lady. The royal blue velvet covering the saddle and seat glowed from the light streaming into the workshop from the open windows. She knew some ladies rode in such a fashion but she had never tried. This saddle only made the lady a passenger. There was no way she would be able to stay on the animal if it became frightened and reared. Keri didn’t even see how the woman could stay on at a trot let alone a canter.

  “But her husband will pay us good money for such a fine piece of work.”

  Keri knew she should be proud of it, it was a beautiful saddle, she just found it hard to think of such an atrocity as anything of the sort. She grumbled some more about the ridiculous waste of a good saddle and horse before picking up the empty bucket by the door and telling Grigson she was going to the well for more water.

  The sunny day put her in a better mood as soon as she stepped out into it. The cobbler’s wife was just returning from the well and smiled broadly enquiring of Keri’s day. Life seemed to be of no hurry in this small place and she took a moment to pass some light conversation with the woman before continuing with her task. She reached the well to find two of the baker’s daughters pulling a bucket from the depths of the village’s water source. “Good afternoon Patti,” the two blond girls chimed in together. Though she did not like the name the villagers tagged her with she couldn’t very well argue with everyone standing around staring at her when they had agreed that was what she should be called since she did not know her own name.

  “You can have this water,” the youngest said, as she pulled the bucket onto the ledge as her sister lugged it up.

  “I’m in no hurry,” Keri advised them.

  “Neither are we, mamma just told us to go be helpful somewhere else so we came to see how many buckets we could pull from the well.”

  “And how many have you girls pulled up?” Keri asked lifting the full bucket to pour into her own.

  “Ten, but only two for other people. The rest we had to dump back down the well because no one was here to get them.”

  “That’s quite impressive,” Keri said sitting their empty bucket back on the ledge. She pulled her bucket now full from the edge of the well, sloshing water on herself as she took the full weight of the load onto her already tired arms and shoulders.

  “Perhaps you two can help everyone pull their water today,” Keri suggested starting to turn away.

  “Oh no, my arms are already getting too tired to pull on this rope anymore and Alease is too little to be able to get them up.”

  “Well, I do appreciate the help you gave me and be sure to tell your mother as well.”

  Turning she took a step toward the little shop that had become her home when she looked toward the road leading into the village square. All feeling flowed from her body as if the blood drained from it. Belatedly she felt the bucket slip from her fingers to land in the dirt splashing her legs with both water and mud. Only then did the man turn her way and she saw Garrick recognized her immediately. He moved his horse in her direction his dark features impassive. She had the urge to flee but hard lessons had taught her such an action was foolish as well as futile. His cold eyes held hers as he slipped a leg over his saddle and slid nimbly to the ground. In three quick strides he was to her, his boots made splashing sounds as they came to rest side by side in front of her like the good soldier he was. Like lightning his hand struck her cheek making the pain explode inside her own skull. Her ears were ringing and she had no time to recover before the man had thrown her atop his horse and mounted behind her.

  She heard the screams of the girls then some of the villagers who had come to see what the commotion was. No one could save her, not even if there was a soldier among them, which there was not, she was a prisoner once again.

  “Use caution wench, I want to kill you,” his voice was cold and hard as steel sending a shiver up her spine. She knew with all certainty this man meant what he said. “You have no honor,” she heard Garrick accuse as his horse easily began to lap up the miles.

  She turned her neck sharply to look up at him. “I am not the one who can be bought when a king dangles a title before me.”

  “Do you think I am one that such an accusation would make me feel guilty and regret my words? Think again for I care not a whit what you may think of me.”

  “What kind of man are you who so easily casts judgment upon another.” With that statement she turned quickly away to watch the fields pass by them.

  Garrick bent to her ear, “My lady, I am without honor. How else could one such as me rise to such an elite level as lord?”

  He straightened and encouraged his horse to an even faster gate. Garrick did not stop until he reached Winchester the next day. She was disappointed and relieved all at the same time to ride down the streets heading straight for the King. Someone came immediately to take the tired horse to the stable then Garrick was dragging her into the palace. All the way to the throne room where their presence had already been announced and they were ushered with all do haste into the empty room. Only then did Garrick release her arm, thrusting her away so that in her exhausted state she staggered away struggling to keep her balance. Then the door behind the throne opened and Damien was shoved through, his arms and legs bound in shackles three burly men surrounding him. He looked tired and hungry, his frame had diminished and she wondered how long he had been without food. Despite his bonds he remained upright and was every bit the proud man Keri had been missing. She made to move toward him but Garrick caught her by the elbow and pulled her back. Damien’s eyes fell on her, his look of surprise was quickly masked as he glanced to Garrick then back to her. He appeared as if he were going to say something but his eyes darted to the door on the other side of the throne which opened to allow Richard and his men to flow through.

  “Our little rabbit has been run aground at last,” the man sneered as he took his seat and Damien stood his ground on the dais near the throne while Garrick grabbed her arm again and thrust her forward as if he were offering his king a sacrifice. Richard cleared his throat and looked to Garrick first.

  “She was hiding in the Cotswolds.”

  Keri found it difficult to concentrate on what was being said because all she could seem to think of was Damien was there, chained with his gray-green eyes boring into her. Was he furious with her? The door Garrick had pulled her through a moment ago slammed open and Cyrille entered and he closed it again in the face of Roland and the other men who gathered outside the chamber.

  “What say you witch?”

  Keri’s attention was dragged from Damien and back to the man before her. Despite her resolve to remain meek her chin raised a notch. “I am no witch.”

  Brows came down in anger before muttering, “We will soon see.” Then in a louder voice, “Rumor has it you and my loyal knight Damien grew quite cozy at Haltwhistle.”

  Keri’s eyes darted back to Damien who still looked at her with the inscrutable expression she abhorred.

  “So cozy it is thought my loyal subject is not so loyal and went against my orders to let you escape,” Richard said his voice deadly and Keri knew either path she chose she would have to tread carefully.

  “I appeal to you again your majesty to believe me when I say it was I who took her from our camp,” Cyrille stated stepping up beside her. His voice rasping to a hoarse grating sound by the end.

  “That is ludicrous,” Damien said firmly, his eyes now darting to the king.

  “He tries to protect me,” Cyrille insisted taking a step closer.

  Damien opened his mouth to contradict his brother when Keri stepped forward. “If you would allow me your majesty I would settle this dispute.”

  The man studied her for a moment then wa
ved his hand at her to continue but looked as bored as one could possibly look and still draw breath. “Neither of these men helped me to escape. It is not the first time I escaped from Sir Damien and his men and I think they are too embarrassed to admit I could do such a thing. If you consider me being chained to Damien’s wall and forced to endure his presence cozy then cozy it was.”

  The king nodded thoughtfully, looked to Damien then back to Keri. “What say you on the charges of being a traitor? It seems quite unlikely you would be found innocent of black magic as well as plotting against my title.”

  “I say I am no traitor. When I discovered Bryson was not loyal to anything but that which would make him wealthier I could say nothing for he was my husband.”

  “And what is this about you and Liam?”

  “He kidnapped me your majesty. He is the son of Lord Howell of Flamborough and had a vendetta against Damien and myself.”

  “I know my loyal knight Damien killed your first husband but I am still quite unclear as to what became of Liam.”

  He motioned to the man holding Damien prisoner who stepped forward and unchained Damien and relief flooded Keri.

  “I can clear that up for you as well. It was your loyal servant again, since Liam had taken me when Damien was to bring me to you. I don’t have to tell you it was a trespass one such as the mighty Sir Damien would not likely forgive,” she made her voice full of malice as if she scoffed at Damien’s confidence in his strength.

  The king nodded again then ordered, “Take her to the tower. She will begin her trials when Bishop John returns.”

  Keri did not fight, she did not try to run from the hand that came out to clamp on her elbow. How quickly a person’s circumstance can change. She watched Damien’s face for any sign that he might hold some sympathy for her plight, even the barest of emotion other than indifference but his face revealed nothing.

  To the tower they went and she prayed a most gracious of thanks to the Lord that she was not sentenced to the dark dungeons.

  ~ ~ ~ ~

  “I have a matter for you to take care of,” Richard said sweeping into the room he had kept Damien waiting in for hours.

  “What might that be?” Damien asked with a slight bow. Richard looked askance at him as if they were old friends and comrades where such formalities were not necessary. It seemed as if Damien were to forget all about his “friend’s” accusation of disloyalty.

  “I have enemies hiding in Northumbria like the cowards they are. I want you to round them up and bring the leaders back here to be hanged. If you cannot bring them to me, bring me their heads so I know the task is complete.”

  “As always I am your humble servant your highness.” Damien said with a bow he hoped would make it clear his statement was true if all his previous years of service had not been enough to confirm this.

  The king nodded with satisfaction. “I have fully pardoned you,” the king announced as if he should be grateful to him this was so.

  “England is my home and I am forever the humble servant of the crown. However, my duty has ended,” Damien said choosing his words carefully so he did not yet find his head upon the block.

  “Yes I believe it has,” Richard said his keen eyes studying him.

  “If I were to bring these rebels to you, would you consider granting me a boon from the crown?”

  Richard rose to his full height and Damien had a sinking feeling that the king would deny his request before even hearing it. Finally, the man nodded for him to go on. “The lady Keri. I ask as payment for my service that you would consider excusing her from trial.”

  Richard nodded, “I could do that. Forgo the trial and send her on to the executioner.”

  “No,” Damien replied quickly, more gruffly than he had ever addressed the king. “I mean to say,” Damien cleared his throat. “That is I am requesting you give her a pardon.”

  Damien stood uncomfortably under the king’s long scrutiny. He wanted to straighten to show the man he was strong despite his desire to beg and plead with this man to spare Keri. But to straighten would send the wrong message to the king, something Keri could not afford for him to do.

  “Pardon a witch?”

  Damien shook his head clamping down on his anger at the king’s certainty of the accusations. “She’s not a witch.”

  “It’s a gamble I should not take with the people of England.”

  Damien felt like scoffing. Richard cared no more for the people of England than he did for England itself. It was galling to serve a king such as him. One who wished to be away from the land Damien was willing to give his life for.

  Apparently the king wanted the rebels within his grasp for his tone changed, “I guess if you will serve me by bringing me the rebels I can see fit to excuse her from her trials.”

  Damien studied Richard for a moment then nodded his head. “Thank you sire.”

  The king clapped him on the shoulder.

  “Understand if I do not free her until you have brought me the rebels.”

  “What of my sister? I have served out the term of our agreement.”

  A sneer crossed the king’s face. “Consider this your last trial of loyalty. If you do not bring me these rebels both women will be killed. So do return with them in all do haste. I grow impatient to return to the Holy Land and wish this matter settled.”

  Damien bowed to him and left the chamber. The king’s words echoed in his mind, “Return to the Holy Land.” He had known hadn’t he, deep down hadn’t he known Richard would always return to the fight? His service was up for guarding the crown here at home, but what would the king do to get him to go into the fight with him. He had already served his time in war, been among the victors and the fallen. He had an uneasy feeling this was not the end but only the beginning of what the king would ask of him.

  Through the corridors Damien's strides were long as his anger steamed him on. All the way to the men's quarters. He was two paces from his chamber when he heard the woman sobbing. He stopped in his tracks and listened for a moment. Along with the sobs were muffled pleas. He would have ignored the female, left her to reap what she sowed for being in this area of the castle to begin with, but the sound came from one of his men’s chambers.

  Flinging the door open it banged against the wall. The explosion brought a shriek from the girl and it was Roland who turned to glare at him as he stepped into the room.

  With a quick glance he took in the situation. The young woman was pinned face down on the mattress by Roland who had her skirts flipped over her back, his legs holding hers open.

  “I will be with you in a moment,” Roland bit out before dismissing Damien and returning his attention to the girl.

  “No,” she pleaded as a sob escaped her.

  “Release her,” Damien ordered.

  A chuckle full of malice escaped him. “Do you know who this is?” he asked forcing her roughly back down onto the mattress when she tried to rise.

  “A frightened child.”

  “His majesty’s virgin niece. He is expecting a large bride price and strong alliance with her virginity.”

  “Release her.” Damien’s voice boomed in the chamber and would have made a lesser man shudder.

  With a frown he turned back to the girl, intent on destroying the king’s prize and disobeying Damien’s order. The fury Damien left the king’s chamber with had not dissipated and he turned that on Roland. Quick strides carried him to Roland where he seized him by the back of the neck and slung him sideways away from the girl.

  He heard sobs escape her and then she was babbling. “Shut up and get out!” he screamed at her. When she immediately did not obey he added a stern, “Now!” As Roland was struggling to regain his feet the girl jumped to hers and was rushing toward the door. “I would hate for your virtue to be questioned with your presence here,” Damien warned before she fled the room.

  “That was uncalled for,” Roland declared angrily once back on his feet.

  Damien felt his thi
n thread of control snap and he lunged for the man he had once depended on. A man who had once been his voice of reason was now more lost than he himself. Roland was the one among them who had a family to think of. He had a wife and children and had offered opinions that reflected his concern for them. Whether it was in an effort to protect or feed them his voice was rational, not that of a man with nothing to lose. Now that man was gone.

  As his fists rained blow upon blow on the other man he felt a keen loss for the friendship that he would never have again. The king he served faithfully and without hesitation, turned good men like Roland into evil men. Damien had once been good but that had been changed, as Roland was changed.

  Only when Damien was exhausted, his knuckles raw and bloodied, did he stop. He collapsed onto the rug next to where Roland’s battered body lay unconscious. Perhaps the saddest part of their fight was now the man who lay unconscious had a slight twist of a smile upon his face. Roland enjoyed the fight, the oblivion it brought to him. Damien recalled screaming in Roland’s face he was his conscience and his sanity but he knew it was too late, for both of them. King Richard had seen to that when he killed Roland’s wife in front of them, in front of her own children. Oblivion born from total exhaustion claimed him and he welcomed it. Content to sleep beside his friend whose soul was as lost as his own.

  Chapter 18

  For Damien the days that followed became dark as he left his men behind and struck out on his own. He wanted his search to be as inconspicuous as possible but if he were to take anyone it would have to be Cyrille and he was anything but. It had been a long time since he was without anyone at his back, at least that’s what he told himself. The reality of it was he could not get the thought of Keri from his mind. He did not doubt Richard would release her when Damien was successful, but that term could be used loosely to suit Richard. His waking moments were spent wondering where she was, what she was doing.