by Hannah West
He took a deep breath and looked at the boy who was getting up after he had dropped him.
“If I tell you I was not going to hurt her, would you tell me where she was?” he asked trying to calm himself, fists clenching.
The boy looked at him for a long moment before nodding slowly, “Aye, my lord.”
Sighing and rubbing a hand over his face in exasperation Alrek growled, “Then tell me where the wench is. I will not a lay a finger to her.”
Nodding his squire smiled slightly. “She is out working with the others, milord.”
Alrek froze thinking he had heard wrong. “Working?”
The boy nodded. “Yes, she is seeing to the winter planting for the spring crop. They should be in the western fields today.’
Something snapped inside Alrek. She had gone behind his back again. These were now his people and they were his to take care of not hers.
Dark anger raising he turned from the boy to leave, but before he did he said over his shoulder, “You are right to uphold your vows.”
Shortly thereafter he stormed from the keep to the stables and slung up onto his horse. Giving the horse its head he swiftly crossed the inner and outer baileys and the stone bridge over the moat.
As he rode on he became angrier with himself. He was failing at being the lord his king and friend trusted him to be. He needed these people to become loyal to him and thus to the crown. Without it everyone here would be slaughtered in the next battle. William was a harsh, but he was fair. He gave chances but he didn’t forgive insubordination. He was ruthless when he needed to be, that’s how he had become king.
Why did the Saxon wench fight him at every step, he was trying to save not only these people from a worse fate then starving and they stood against him. He would have to break her to break her people into doing his bidding.
Soon he spotted a large field being tended by a large mass of people and drew his horse to a slow canter. He scanned the field and was shocked to see half the people working the field and planting were men from his guards. They were out of armor and mail, no swords by their sides, in plain clothing working happily among the villagers.
He was shocked to see his man working a field let alone enjoying it.
Children helped with the planting of seeds and clearing of rock singing and the adults where singing as well or laughing as they worked.
Several yards into the field he spotted his wife in her men’s clothing covered in mud with dirt smudged across her beautiful face, singing along as she herself cleared away rocks and greeted all she passed. Her long black hair flowed free with some dried twigs visible and she smiled brightly before she laughed at something one of the men said to her. He couldn’t hear her reply but the young man laughed back.
He had never seen her like this, so care free.
His anger came back as she tripped over something and was sent flying. He was flying off his horse before he even knew what he was doing and he rushed over to her.
The singing and laughing stopped as soon as they saw their lord rushing into the field.
She didn’t seem to notice him as he gently lifted her up from the ground because her hair was covering her face.
She brushed away the hair from her face with a breathless laughing, “Thank you.”
But the moment she saw it was him her face paled and she yanked her arm from his hold, holing it to her chest as if burned.
She gazed at him impassively. “Why are you here?
Her coldness left him breathless, then he glared her down. “I could ask you the same thing. Why have I not been able to find you and who gave you permission to enlist my men?”
She was going to tilt that chin of hers at him, he knew.
He wasn’t disappointed.
She raised her noble chin and glared back. “I did. As the lady of the castle I enlisted them. We are planting a crop that will be the difference between starving to death and having food. Your supply store won’t last forever, Viking!”
“What do you know about our supplies, wench?” he asked suspiciously.
“It is common sense you seem to be lacking it. The castle and village here alone feed over three hundred people and you have brought along two hundred more mouths to feed. By the look of what you brought it will only last a few more months. I am almost out of funds to pay for supplies and food. This crop will save us.” She shook her head at him.
He saw her point, it was true, but the estate and she were not as poor as they thought.
“I traded almost all of what I had left of my mother’s jewels for this crop seed. I have enough left to offer up if we run out of food after yours is gone.”
His noticed a slight tremble in her voice.
“You gave away more of your possessions?” he asked harshly.
“Aye, for my people. I will do anything for them because they will do anything for me. I will even work and live in the dirt with them to make sure no more of them die if I can help it. They trust me to keep them alive and now as their lord you should be doing to same.” Her eyes glittered with unshed tears.
“Wench once again you have no idea of which you speak. Come with me back to the keep and we shall discuss this in private,” he growled.
She shook her head and turned back to work. “I will speak with you when you come to understand. But then again a peasant like you could never understand what it is like to be noble and be responsible of the lives in your care.” She turned to give him a cold look. “Your king could have done better in choosing a husband for me. I have no use for a man of little wit and harsh actions.”
She bent down to pick up more rocks and added them to her basket to move.
Slowly her people started their work again but the knights didn’t and she didn’t care. The Normans had ruined much more than just her homeland, they had ruined her life.
Before she could even scream she was tossed over a thick tall shoulder and then tossed over the saddle of a horse.
“Put me down, you bloody bastard!” she screamed as the horse was sent flying over the ground toward the keep.
“Silence,” he said darkly and she for once she was silent.
Chapter Six
He took the stone steps two at a time before he reached the door to her chamber with the lady kicking and screaming over his shoulder. Once he got her door open he strode in and tossed her onto the bed.
Slamming and bolting the door behind him he roared at her, “Why must you be such a bloody arse!”
Desperately scrambling for balance she looked around for something she could aim at him giant head. When her eyes landed on a pitcher of water she didn’t hesitate. She grabbed the handle and threw it at him with all the force she could.
It flew through the air and beamed him square in the forehead, splattering him with water and sending him stumbling back into the heavy wood door.
“Why do you do nothing but make my life hell,” she screamed at him. “All I am trying to do is make sure life goes on and everyone survives. I already gave you my body, what more do you want from me?”
For some odd reason he found the situation suddenly funny for he started the laugh softly and then the room boomed with laughter.
“You do not understand yourself,” he said when he was done. “You act like you have a choice as to what happens to you or these people. Let me be clear. You do not. You and every one of these people belong to me and are under my care. They will be made to follow me. I will break you, woman.”
He smirked at her pale face. “You are mine and you shall obey me. I will no longer try to get along with you. You have proved that you are not willing to do as much.”
“Well then,” she said feeling numb. There was no use in trying to make him understand what she was trying to do. He was just like her father, seeing her as nothing more than a thing to own, to parade out in front of others to show off then lock her away.
She got off the bed and went over to the large window. The heavy glass panel was latched in a single spot with a heavy
lock.
Then what was the point in living if she would just be another beaten slave to another man? At least her father had been civil when he wasn’t drunk.
She walked over to the window and looked out.
“What are you doing,” he barked sharply at her.
She reached for the latch and just before she pushed the window open she looked hollowly at him.
“Making my last choice,” she said as she flung the window open and made a dash to jump up on the ledge. Just before she could leap from the open space a thick arm wrapped around her and pulled her back inside.
She cried and screamed for him to let her go, to let her make one last choice for herself. She would not live like this anymore.
He turned her in his arms and held her as tight as he could without breaking her.
“I don’t want to be abused any more, let me go,” she sobbed brokenly, “please.” She took a shuddering breath. “I would rather die than be kept under your thumb.”
He slid down the stone wall of the room with her still fighting him in his arms until she passed out, going limp in his arms with one last shuddering sob.
Chapter Seven
Alrek had never been more scared in his life then when he saw her try to jump from the widow to her death.
His heart had hammered in his chest and his blood rushed through his veins. Without thinking he had leapt to grab her, getting lucky enough to get ahold of her around the waist.
Had he really wanted her broken? Well she was now in his arms.
Looking down at her pale heart shaped face, tear stained, he felt ashamed.
Thinking on it as she rested silently in his arms he knew he had pushed her to this, but he also knew the war, the fighting and their marriage had finished the fracturing of her mind.
Silently he rose with her in his arms and walked from her chamber to his across the passage way to place her in his bed and cover her.
After a fire with lit to keep the room warm he left without another word. He trudged slowly down the steps to the main hall. He took a seat on a bench next to the fire and leaned his head into his hands as his thoughts ate at him.
…
“Milord,” a voice called out to him, pulling him out of the dark abyss of him mind.
“What,” he snapped at his squire.
“Lord Adrian sent word that he and Lady Sarina would be arriving in a few days’ time,” the lad said quietly.
Alrek sighed heavily and cursed silently. Of all times for his friend to come visit. It was too late to deny them a visit.
“Send word back they are welcome within my walls.”
“Yes, milord.” The boy retreated and ran off to do his bidding.
Alrek didn’t understand the feelings paired with his guilt. His chest had a dull ache that wouldn’t go away. He had to do something.
Now what was he going to do about his wife? What could he do after what he had done already?
Chapter Eight
Darcee woke with a heavy filling in her chest, but she didn’t want to open her eyes. She was still too tired. It was too much effort.
“I know you are awake, Lady Darcee,” a sweet sultry voice said from the edge of Darcee’s current bed.
She cracked open an eye to see a lovely young woman sitting on the edge of her bed.
“Who are you and what do you want,” she asked with a sigh, settling back in the bed.
“I am Sarina, I happen to be married to your husband’s friend and former commander.” She smiled sweetly and Darcee groaned.
It was like staring at a painting of an angel. Too bad this angel knew her husband.
Darcee groaned in despair and turned over. She noticed that her stomach was sore from the brute’s arm when he had hauled her back into the room from the window.
She had been so close to being free. The castle itself was five stories tall, if she had fallen head first she would have bashed her head and broken her neck. An instant death.
“I find I must ask,” said Sarina, the angel. “Why try to kill yourself? Surely there was naught so bad it was the only way for you.”
Peeking open an eye at the young lady Darcee sighed. “There is naught now that I wouldn’t do to be free of that brute the king ordered me to wed.”
Worry creased the other woman’s brow. “Lord Alrek is nothing short of a caring man. He may have harsh edges but he is never cruel or heartless.”
A strangled, toneless laugh passed Darcee’s lips. “Oh you think so, do you, my lady? He did nothing short of rape me on our wedding night. But then he was my husband and had the right to my bed even if I didn’t want him there.”
She felt her lower lip tremble. “It hurt and I bled. He took no care with me.”
Expression darkening Sarina shook her head. “Now I see why you think him a brute. I cannot say for sure, but like my own husband he may not have had a lot of experience with woman before you. It is one thing to tup a serving wench and another to ease one’s wife into the marriage bed.”
Shocked at her blunt speak Darcee stared at her gaping. She had never heard such crude words come out of the mouth of another young noble woman.
Lady Sarina smiled slightly. “I spoke to boldly, did I not? It has become a bad habit of mine thanks to my husband. Anyway,” she said rising from the bed, “I think you are making a mistake.”
Darcee hugged a pillow to her chest. “No, I am not. Neither of us likes each other and all he wants in control. I cannot live my life in the shadows of yet another man.”
“He has not had an easy time of things. He has a lot of pressure on him from the king. If he cannot prove himself to the king then the king will take all of this away from him.”
“All he wants is an heir!” Darcee snapped sitting up to glare at her. “My people are starving and all he cares about is getting his men settled. He knows nothing of what to do and stops me at every turn when I try to save my people. We have little stores and almost no larder. There is over five hundred total now on these lands and soon we will even be out of the food my husband has brought with him. There is no gold or silver left to trade and this land was burned.”
Lady Sarina sat back down on the edge of the bed and took one of Dacree’s cold hands.
“I believe that neither of you know the whole story. You and he need to have speech together and solve all the issues that plague you. I know he has used you ill, but he may not think of it that way, you need to tell him so he understands.”
Simmering with anger Darcee snatched her hand back. “I do not want anything to do with that brute.”
Sarina sighed. “Sooner or later you will have to speak with him. Mark my words.”
Getting up again she grimaced. “Long horse rides are not my choice of travel.” She walked to the door and gave Darcee another telling look. “I shall see you on the morrow.”
…
That morrow never came as Darcee locked herself away in her own room the day after. The only who was allowed in was her husband’s squire as she had grown fond of the lad. He reminded her of her brother a lot.
It was day four and counting that she stayed within her rooms and she was finally over the worst of her anger at herself for giving him a chance.
As she sank lower into the tub of steam water and suds she smiled at the pleasure of the bath. She had eaten the meal that the lad had brought and was now ready for a nap. She had grown somewhat lazy, but through her husband’s squire she was able to direct that last of the planting.
But through the lad also came messages from her husband she wouldn’t listen to. It had only taken a few days for him to give up. The first day he had pounded on her door until she had an ache in her head. But she never answered his angry bellows or silent commands to open her door.
Soon they had stopped altogether and she gave into a good cry.
She had put up with much and deserved this much. She hadn’t had the greatest life while her father was alive, but no one had been starving or dying then. She had
made her effort to get along with the man and he had killed every chance she threw at him.
Why must all man been so stubborn?
What life would she have here if she lived long enough? Have him use her body until she got with child and then take her child away from her? To never be a part in raising her own child until they no longer knew or cared who she was?
She would not live so, if need be she would run away with her child and raise it somewhere else.
Darcee sat up in bed. That is what she would do! She would run away. It mattered not that she was married to the Viking who pretended to be a Norman dog. She had heard the way he talked about his gods. He did not believe in God so her marriage to him meant nothing in the eyes of him or the church. His vows have no meaning.
Racing for her trunk she lifted the lid and took one of her shoulder packs out stuffing it with her clothing and weapons. She pulled out four dirks slipping two in each boot after she pulled them on. With a grim set to her face she took out the one small bag of coin she had left. It wasn’t much in the eyes of a lord but for a peasant it would last years if they lived carefully enough.
She stowed them carefully in the bottom of her bag to be hidden near the few things she had left of her mother.
She closed the lid to her chest and looked around her room a final time and it hurt her heart to leave her only world behind. However as she fastened her thick woolen cloak around her she knew it had been for the best.
If she made for the woods she would have the advantage on them. She could be gone before they knew better.
Making a quick trip to the kitchen she scored some food and left through its heavy wooden door, pulling her hood over her head.
Chapter Nine
The castle got smaller and smaller through the trees until she could no longer see it over her shoulder.
She let out a long breath and the late night air turned foggy. She pulled her cloak tighter and quickened her pace.
