Captured by the Dark Lord

by Jaide Fox

Bianca scarcely noticed in her misery. More than in her body, she felt a weariness in her mind that refused to relinquish control.

  As the men began the long ride to Raedan, she fell into a deep sleep.

  When next she awoke, it was in her own bed. A blurry shape stood above her, blocking the light from the candle sconces.

  “Bianca? Are you awake?”

  Bianca blinked rapidly, adjusting to the light. “Adriana?”

  Adriana threw herself at Bianca and hugged her tightly, smothering her with her embrace. She pulled back to look at her, then laughed and hugged her again. “Oh, Bianca, we worried we would never see you again. Father is on his way. When you started to stir, I sent for him.”

  Adriana sat on the edge of the bed, patting her leg. “Do you need anything? Are you thirsty, or hungry?”

  Bianca smiled. “No, I’m fine. And I’ll be glad to see father. But really, Adriana, why do you carry on so. It’s only been--”

  The door burst open and her father strode inside. He shouted and laughed to see her and shuffled to the bed. After many hugs and kisses, he pulled back from her and collapsed in a chair, holding her hand. “We’d nearly given up hope of finding you.”

  “I’m sorry, father. I thought I was doing the right thing. I never imagined things would turn out this way.”

  John looked confused ... and worried. His brow wrinkled as he frowned, and he ran his fingers through his thin, snowy hair. “Daughter, I can’t imagine what you were thinking, but I have some news for you.”

  Bianca sat up in the bed, frightened by his and Adriana’s serious expressions. “What is the matter?”

  “When you went missing, Cerise struck out after you. You know how bold she is. I fear she is lost somewhere in the valley ... or she has been taken into Hellsing. She has been missing for several days now, and I fear if weeks go by without her return as with what happened with you, we will never find her.”

  Bianca shook her head, confused. “That’s not right. I’ve only been gone a week. Cerise cannot be so deeply lost in that short a time. You exaggerate, father.”

  His eyes widened, and he released her hand as she pulled away. “No, I do not. It has been weeks, my daughter. Weeks.”

  This wasn’t right. Something was terribly, terribly wrong. Her world could not have skewed so horribly. Damian could help her set things to rights. He’d been the impetus since the beginning--he had to help her sort this out. “I will ask Damian to help us.”

  “Who?” John asked, glancing at Adriana. Adriana shrugged, shaking her head.

  Bianca massaged her temple. Her head pounded like a drum. “The death knight. I forgot you would likely not know his name.”

  “Please, Bianca, this is no time for jests.”

  “You do not remember the deal you struck with the death knight? I ran away that night to save you.”

  “I know not why you left, daughter, but I am glad you are home. Perhaps you can help us find Cerise. The trackers picked up her trail heading to Hellsing. I feel certain we will locate her there, somewhere near the border. I’ve already sent some men in to continue tracking.”

  “This can’t be happening. It cannot. He was real, father. As real as you or I!”

  Adriana stood, looking worried, and left. Bianca scarcely noticed her passing, her mind in a whirl.

  “You are delirious from your time in the woods. I’ll leave you to get some more rest. Do not worry overmuch about Cerise. I have our best men looking. I should not have mentioned it to you so soon, when you’ve not even recovered from your trials.”

  Bianca nodded and watched as he left, dousing the candles near the door. She was not so addle brained she couldn’t remember where she’d spent the last week … or weeks. And she’d most certainly not been gone longer than that. Why could he not remember what had happened? Did he not think it strange that she would just suddenly run away?

  It made no sense. Her head continued to throb with pain, and she massaged her temples and the bridge of her nose.

  Tomorrow she would go into the valley. If what her father said was true, she had no need to stay here. Cerise was a handful, but she had a notoriously bad sense of direction, and she’d always managed to leave a trail behind in her ramblings through the woods wide enough any tracker worth his salt could find her with his eyes closed.

  No, she would go out tomorrow, not to help track her sister down, but to find Helmskeep. She was not insane. Damian was real, and she would prove it.

  A knock sounded softly on the door before it opened. Adriana stepped inside, carrying a tray with what smelled like broth on it.

  “I thought perhaps you could use this,” she said and handed it to her.

  Bianca accepted the cup and stopped Adriana from going. “You believe me, don’t you Adriana? About the ... death knight?”

  She hesitated, then sat in the chair by the bed. “I-I believe that you do.”

  Bianca frowned and sipped the steaming broth, burning her tongue. She set it down on her bedside table. “There has to be some way to convince you I’m not mad.”

  “I want to believe you, but there’s no proof--”

  “His coat of arms!” Bianca flung the covers off her legs. “That is the key.”

  “What are you talking about? And where are you going?”

  Bianca stood and slipped a robe around her shoulders. “I’m going to the library.” She took one of the candles glowing by the bed.

  Adriana followed her as she left the room and walked down the hall. “Why?”

  “There are histories of Raedan’s ruling families, as well as neighboring provinces. I recognized Damian’s coat of arms from somewhere: a spider and a rose. If I can find it, perhaps then you’ll believe me.” They reached the library, and Bianca lit several more candles around the room, flooding the small room with light.

  “That does sound familiar.” Adriana rubbed her hands excitedly, looking around at the shelves of books. “It’s almost like a treasure hunt.”

  Adriana always saw the positive side of every situation. Bianca worried that someday that brightness would be snuffed.

  “Start looking for genealogy, then move on to history. He said it had been several centuries, so that would be many generations ago.” Bianca passed philosophy titles and religion. She found several written purely for entertainment, and set those aside for later reading. They’d been looking for half an hour before Bianca ran across her first book recording the family history. Others bound similarly with gold scrollwork lined the shelves below it.

  Bianca sighed and pulled the first one down and began reading. Hours later, bleary eyed and tired, she still hadn’t discovered anything about Damian.

  “Bianca?” Adriana called behind her

  Bianca flipped through the gilt edged pages. “Hmm?”

  “You said a rose and what?”

  Bianca turned around, feeling a tremor of excitement. “A spider. A rose and a spider. He had banners with that insignia, and it was etched into his armor.”

  Adriana held up a massive book she held, turning the pages toward Bianca. There was an illustration. “Like this?”

  “Oh my gods!” Bianca jumped up and rushed to her, grabbing the book. “Exactly like this!”

  The book was ancient, the pages filled with old style illumination. It was opened to one of the last pages, and painted with ink and oils was a depiction of a battle. Hordes of dark creatures filled the bottom half, battling knights with surcoats of silver and purple. Above them all on a precipice stood a knight in silver armor. Platinum hair escaped his helm, and a cape flew from his shoulders, embroidered with a crest of a single rose and a spider twined around the stem. In his hand, he raised a lance high, streaming his banner, and rising above him stood a white as death man, cloaked in black with a mist swirling around him.

  Bianca felt a chill slither up her spine, and she shivered unconsciously. The detail of the picture was magnificent, a masterpiece of the times. Bianca held her place and flipped the cover b
ack. It was titled simply, A History of the Valiants.

  “Is it him?”

  Bianca turned back to the picture. “It has to be,” she said breathlessly. Carefully, she turned the ancient page. She scanned the lengthy passage, stunned.

  Adriana noticed her pallor and asked, “What is the matter?”

  Tears pooled in her eyes, and she wiped them away, staring down at the page angrily. “The last battle of the Duke of Keiranon, Damian Alessandro of Helmskeep. ...As the king commanded his champion, so did Lord Keiranon obey. He gathered his armies to Hellsing where the necromancer, Morveresson, lay in wait. Long had his blackness saturated the land with evil.”

  Bianca skipped down to where the action picked up once more. “...the blood of his men stained the battlefield, swarmed by the growing horde. In a last valiant strike, Lord Keiranon pushed through Morveresson’s legions. Through the dying cries of his men, there could be heard his prayer, that though he should die, so too would the evil upon the land. May the gods give him strength. His steed burst past the last resistance, and Lord Keiranon poised to strike. Through the air his lance soared, striking Morveresson through the heart--” Bianca broke off as she shuddered for breath, her eyes pooling once more.

  Adriana rubbed her back, leaning her head on her shoulder. “Is that all?”

  Bianca shook her head and continued. “...With his last breath, Morveresson whispered the words of a curse unknown, and a black blade could be seen flying through the air. Lord Keiranon did not see the blade’s approach in his triumph, and the blackness pierced his armor, striking his heart. ...And as the necromancer breathed his last breath, so too did Lord Keiranon, last of the Valiants, die.”

  He’d not been a monster. He’d performed no black deeds. He was a hero, and in an ironic twist of fate, he’d been cursed to eternity as a creature of darkness. She had been wrong, so very wrong....

  The tears welled up once more, but Bianca made no attempt to stop them.

  Chapter Seven

  “Are you certain you want to do this, Bianca? I fear what father will do once he finds you’ve gone again,” Adriana whispered to her, nervously glancing around the dark stable.

  Even though he’d been tremendously happy to see his mistress returned, Beast was a monster of a horse, and it took both of them to saddle him.

  “That’s why you shall cover for me. And if he finds us out, just make sure he reads my letter.” Bianca put her foot in the stirrup and lifted herself onto Beast. She tightened her cloak around her shoulders and tucked her skirts around her legs.

  “I just worry about you, Bianca. You’ve changed somehow. You were never so ... so sorrowful before.”

  Bianca reached down and touched her sister’s hair, smiling. “I know. And I must do this if I am ever going to go on with my life. I will return as soon as I can. Beast made the journey before in but a day and a half.”

  Adriana nodded and opened the stable door for her. The courtyard was quiet, more so than usual, for many of her father’s men were out searching for Cerise before the trail could grow cold.

  She hated leaving now but knew this couldn’t wait either. She had to let Damian know she’d discovered the truth.

  Beast followed Adriana across the yard, and Bianca waited as she opened the small, private gate hidden in one corner of the courtyard.

  Bianca guided Beast past the narrow door, her legs nearly scraping on the thick stone walls. But they made it through.

  “Be careful. I love you,” Adriana whispered.

  Bianca turned in the saddled to see her waving good-bye. She waved and blew a kiss. “I love you too,” Bianca called softly, then turned away and dug her heels into Beast’s flanks.

  Helmskeep awaited.

  * * * *

  Dawn cut through the night like a razor. Two nights had passed as she rode, but she’d finally made it to the valley of Helmskeep.

  A thick fog filled the valley, obscuring her sight of the castle. She kicked her heels into Beast’s flanks to rush down the road. It had taken her longer than she’d thought it would to reach Helmskeep, and she was eager to see Damian again.

  The road flattened out, and the stone wall came into view. The fog was higher down here, with only faint wisps creeping along the ground.

  She rode around the perimeter to the entrance and halted upon finding it. One side of the gate lay on the ground, the black bars rusted through. The other gate clung precariously to the wall with but a single hinge still in place.

  Bianca shivered in the early morning cold. Doubts surfaced. She shook her head and nudged Beast forward, trotting down the overgrown lane. But not even a week ago it had been smooth and well kept, now weeds choked the path, slowing her progress. Frightened in a way she had not been before, she pushed onward.

  Cresting the gentle swell, the castle should have been visible to her, even through the rising fog.

  It wasn’t there.

  With a sharp cry, Bianca raced down the rise. She barely waited for the horse to pull to a halt before she’d leapt off his back and ran to the crumbling steps. The front entrance was gone, and now only a broken space remained.

  In stunned horror, she crossed the threshold. As far as she could see, only scattered stone remained. It was scorched, as though a fire had disintegrated everything but the foundation.

  This ... this couldn’t be real. Bianca touched the broken doorway, scraped her hand down the rough edge. She looked at her hand, saw an angry red line scored down the center of her palm.

  Beast wandered off to graze on winter grass as she stood there in stunned silence. She wasn’t mad! She hadn’t dreamed everything that had happened, had she?

  “Damian!” Bianca turned in a circle, calling his name again and again until her voice broke and she collapsed on the stairs. His name echoed back from the walls of the valley, mocking her.

  “Where have you gone?” she whispered. “I came back for you. I wanted to tell you ... so much.” She dropped her face into her hands.

  “Tell me what, my sweet lady?”

  Bianca jerked her head up. Damian stood before her, one foot propped on the bottom step, his expression solemn.

  She jumped up and ran to him, throwing herself into his arms. He hugged her and whirled her around before setting her feet on the ground. Bianca looked up at him, cupping his cheek in her palm. “Are you real?”

  The blue of his eyes deepened. “I am as I have always been. Why did you come back here, Bianca?”

  All the silly reasons she’d come were excuses hiding her true motives. She realized that now. “I’ve come to stay, if you will have me.”

  He pulled back from her, his face grave. “You don’t know what you are asking.”

  She laid a finger against his lips, her heart swelling to unbearable proportions. “Shh. I do.”

  He kissed her fingertip, and she smiled, knowing that though she’d not healed him, she had released his spirit from torment. The necromancer had stolen his life force, but it had returned. She could see his vitality shining in his eyes.

  He brushed his thumbs across her eyes, closing her lids as he kissed her. Air surged around them, and she gasped in surprise, breaking away from him.

  The castle had returned.

  Bianca looked at Damian questioningly.

  “Illusion, my sweet. I thought it was best if you did not stay, but I cannot carry on my existance without you.”

  “Damian,” she said, breathless. Smiling, he bent and scooped her into his arms, carrying her up the stairs and through the antechamber.

  “Where are we going?”

  “To bed.”

  Her heart skipped a beat, and she snuggled against his neck. Before she knew it, they were in her chamber. Lights flared, revealing a waiting bath, and the door shut quietly behind them as he deposited her on the bed.

  Damian began unbuckling his armor as she watched. Excitement and sadness mingled in a dizzying mix. She wanted him to feel her as much as she did him. “Damian, I.... What of you
r own fulfillment?”

  He paused only a moment, then continued stripping off his armor. “I will enjoy pleasuring you.”

  Bianca blushed as he pulled his mail shirt off and exposed the planes of his chest and belly. He was so masculine, so beautiful. In every sense of the word, he looked the epitome of what a man should be. Her belly ached as she drew her eyes down his well-muscled chest, and she wished he truly be real to her and not just illusion.

  “You said once you could assume human form every hundred years.”

  He stood in only his breeches now, and stopped unlacing the front. “You don’t know what you’re asking.” He propped on a poster of the bed. “It will be a torment to us both to pursue this folly.”