by Beth Mikell
He actually had the audacity to look wounded. “Ryrie, lass—and ruin my reputation? What would the ladies say?”
“They would probably be relieved for your dubious wit and charm tends to get in the way of your mouth. Now, hush, they are almost upon us,” she said smartly, receiving a nod of approval from Darrius.
Nyle leaned over from her other side. “Nicely said. I am sure Rowan’s still mulling over his dubious wit and charm for a suitable comment.”
“Damn you, little brother, that will be enough outta you!” Rowan projected a death stare and Nyle grinned.
“Children, they are near,” Simon whispered, winking at Rowan.
****
Sir Robert of Chevington walked up to the group accompanied by his son, Erik, addressing the Lord of Blackstone. “Ah, Lord Darrius, I wanted to personally congratulate you on such a fine display you have constructed. Tomorrow’s event will be something splendid to behold,” he said with a twinkle in his beady blue eyes.
His red hair hung down to his shoulders, dressed in a gaudy fur trimmed and jewel studded red shirt and blue pants with a gold belt wrapped around the wide girth of his over indulged waist. Even his mantle of deep purple made an eye-catching statement of wealth gone awry.
Darrius smiled, holding Liam comfortably within his grasp, though his son hid his face deep within his father’s neck—shy of strangers. “Indeed, Sir Robert. I hope the event will be enjoyed by many. Both you and Erik are most welcome.”
“Thank you, Lord Darrius,” Erik replied, bowing his blue eyes moving to observe Ryrie, but she ignored him. Erik did not share his father’s style choices, preferring to wear darker shades of brown and his dark russet hair was cut more conservatively.
Sir Robert turned his attention toward Ryrie and she cringed inwardly.
“And I see your lovely sister is here. Ryrie is it?”
Angus the Strong and Thomas the Wise joined the rest of the gathering, interrupting the stimulating conversation. On seeing Angus, Liam practically leaped out of Darrius’ arms to get to the large, massive warrior who caught him up in his large hands, sending Liam into a fit of giggles.
Her lips tightened into a thin smile. “Yes, Sir Robert, it is lovely to see you again. Gentlemen, if you will excuse me.” She turned to leave.
Darrius sidestepped his guests and Imperial Elite to catch her. “Small thistle, where are you going?”
“Just for small walk, Darrius. I will not go far.”
“Let me send Simon with you, or Nyle, or I will with go with you. It is not safe,” he whispered, his eyes filled with something close to worry.
Ryrie reached out to touch her brother’s arm reassuringly. “I will only go as far as the end of the curtain wall, and then return. I just need a moment to clear my head.”
Darrius still did not look convinced, as if his thoughts were troubled. “Just to end and back…”
“Of course.” She wanted to run away, but she walked like a lady in simple retreat.
She did not know why, but Sir Robert of Chevington and his son had a terrible way of unsettling her nerves. They eyed her strangely. Maybe with the intent toward marital intentions, though the answer would clearly be no. In addition, Sir Robert liked to push his wealth and title down everyone’s throat. It was revolting. Perhaps she should be more charitable, but his oily presence grated on her nerves.
Clearing her mind of his unwholesome presence, Ryrie peered around at the activities being prepared for tomorrow’s tournament. Everything looked splendid. Colorful flags, tents, and banners. The women of the keep and nearby town had prepared mountains of food, and the smell of fresh cakes, yeast bread, and meat filled the air, reminding Ryrie of how hungry she was. She would raid the kitchen after returning to the keep, her waistline be damned. What did she care? Marriage to anyone was off the table, so her handmaiden would be busy letting out the seams of her gowns.
Ryrie neared the end of the curtain wall far too quickly, and she frowned. She glanced over her shoulder to find Darrius watching her. She smiled, understanding his reason for concern with so many unknown knights around, but what could someone do with the lord of the keep but a few yards away? With a shake of her head, she continued her easy pace until reaching the last stone of the curtain wall.
Before she turned, someone grabbed her, pulling her out of sight.
Chapter 3
“She is a pretty one, James. My compliments on snatching a fine piece of tail.”
Ryrie gasped, pulling roughly against the arms of a large man with long stringy brown hair. He smelled of horses, sweat, and rotten eggs. She pummeled his chest, but her attempts were ineffective as he captured her wrists.
“Let me go!” She continued to push at his biting grip, his clasp burning against her skin as he twisted his filthy hands hard to hold her in place.
The other man leaned forward, blowing his putrid breath down into her face. “Aye, Sven. Let’s take her somewhere.” His eyes searched his surroundings, and then back to her. “Come on, pretty, you will like us,” said the one called James.
The other knight pulled Ryrie, but she struggled and he caught her up by the waist, ignoring her attempt at escape. “Let me go, you cur! My brother will kill you!” The two men only laughed harder.
“Sven, do see anyone?” James asked, looking around. “You are out of luck, pretty. And besides, we are skillful enough to take on anyone,” he boasted.
“Let her go.”
Ryrie and the two men whipped around to see a tall knight with long blond hair, glaring at them. He stared them down with his cool blue eyes, his sword drawn, as if ready to give death.
It took Ryrie all of one second to recognize her savior. Colin. She hadn’t seen him in years, but she would know him anywhere. He was... unforgettable. Though her young girl infatuation had muddled her brain seven years ago, she could never forget him. He looked so different than she remembered. He was taller, leaner with long blond hair past his shoulders, his face was clean-shaven. Colin wore sleeveless leather armor, exposing his muscular arms with metal gauntlets at his wrist and leather pants. He carried one sword, but two more were strapped on his back, their hilts evident on either side of his shoulder blades.
“Who are you?” James sneered hotly, apparently unimpressed by the newcomer.
“Go find your own wench. She is ours!” Sven piped up.
Colin snorted. “Wench? Your definition is astounding. I am someone that knows how to protect the honor of a lady, and if I were you, I would not manhandle the sister of Lord Darrius. I am sure he would not be so—forgiving should irreparable harm come to her,” he said, his gaze swept over Ryrie. He watched her with unflinching eyes as he inched forward. “Release her.”
Sven and James looked at one another, and they let her go.
“Are you all right, my lady?”
She ignored Colin’s question, her breath heaving. Ryrie assessed the two knights who had the gall to touch her. Without ceremony, she smacked James in the face, leaving her reddened palm print on his cheek. His head snapped back in surprise. “How dare you touch me!” Her eyes flashed, her anger seething.
Stunned, James took a step forward. “Why you little—” he began only to come up short as Colin’s sword came inches away from his throat.
“I would not, if I were you,” Colin said. “Not if you expect to live another day. Now back off,” Colin pushed out through clenched teeth. “Ryrie, get behind me.”
She moved quickly to Colin’s side, standing inches away. She could feel the heat of his body. Her senses were caught off guard. His hot, spicy male scent whipped a delicious welcome through her, and she shivered.
“What in the holy hell is going on here?”
The group of four turned their heads at the deep voice. Darrius of Blackstone approached with swift strides, sword drawn with his Elite at his heels. His cool gaze and expression was ruthless. “Ryrie, come to me,” he commanded, waiting until his sister joined him. “Did they harm you?”
“You two,” Darrius said, addressing the knights Ryrie pointed out. “I rarely give second chances, so I suggest you make haste and leave. If you are here for the tournament, you will go find your place. Abuse a woman within my lands and you will find your head mounted on a stick above my keep.”
James and Sven looked at each other and scrambled to leave without a look back.
Darrius turned his attention to Colin. “I see my warning to you went unheeded without care or it is your stupidity. Either way, I will kill you now and save myself further irritation.” He took a step forward and Colin brought up his sword, ready for attack.
Colin bowed. “I am but a servant to your wish, Lord Darrius.”
Ryrie placed her hand upon her brother’s arm. “Darrius, please! He saved me.”
Darrius ignored her. “Simon, take my sister and son back to the keep.”
The young Elite knight stepped forward, flashing Colin a wary glance before looking at Ryrie. “My lady?”
With no other choice, she turned to leave with Simon, flashing Colin one last look before walking by her brother and the Imperial Elite. She took Liam from Angus’s waiting arms. However, as they rounded the corner, Lady Brenna appeared, her face flushed.
“Simon! Where is Darrius? I was coming to see him and I was told Colin returned.” Brenna reached out to stroke Liam’s dark hair.
“Yes, my lady, but I think my lord is in fit rage to kill him.” He swallowed hard. “Please allow me to escort you all back inside.”
****
Brenna dismissed his urging, pushing by Ryrie and Simon. She rounded the corner of the curtain wall and stopped to survey the madness laid out before her. With quick steps, she made her way to Darrius as he raised his sword. “Darrius! No!”
Immediately, he lowered his weapon and turned to look at his wife. “God above, news travels fast,” he said dryly. “Now go back inside the keep, my lady wife, and allow me to take care of… this.” Darrius raked a caustic glance toward Colin.
Brenna reached out a hand to her warrior, her eyes filled with steadfast compassion. “Darrius, you promised me that if the day came, you would consider forgiveness. That day has come,” she said with a shake of her head. “Do not do this.”
His expression hardened. “He did a great wrong, little dove. How can I forgive him?”
A soft smile curved her lips. “I forgive him, just...” she trailed off a moment, and then said, “Like I forgave you.”
Darrius cocked his head, surprise glittering within his face. “What do you mean?”
“Your mission two years ago caused you to lie to me and to be someone you were not. The consequences changed everything. Had I not forgiven you, our life would be very different—and you know that very well.” She was supposed to marry Lord Gunther, but Darrius imprisoned his brother and married her instead. “Without forgiveness, we are nothing. You must try, Darrius… please,” she pleaded, giving Colin a quick assessment. She was shocked by his hard warrior appearance, but made no move to speak with him. She knew her husband’s control was barely reined in.
The Imperial Arm gave a curt nod to his wife and looked back at the man he hated these last two years. “If you are here for the tournament, you may stay, but only by the graciousness of my wife. You will not enter the keep under any circumstance. You will keep your distance from my family too. If I think you are up to foul play, I will run you through without question. Have I made myself clear?”
“Abundantly.” Colin sheathed his sword at his hip with a distinct ring.
Darrius turned away from Colin, sheathing his own sword, reaching for Brenna’s hand. He stopped in front of Dugan. “Organize the men and put out a notice to all. If anyone violates a man, woman, or child within my lands, they will face dire consequences at my hand. I will not tolerate any abuse, whether intentional or not,” he said, flipping Colin one last fleeting glance.
Dugan gave a slight bow. “At once, my lord.”
Darrius moved past his Imperial Elite with Brenna at his side.
****
As Ryrie stood with Liam in her arms, she watched her brother and Colin. Questions formed right and left within her mind. After she first arrived at Blackstone Castle, Ryrie half expected to see Colin, but to her surprise, he was not to be found among her brother’s knights. She had asked Brenna where he was, but her sister-in-law only said Darrius and Colin had a falling out, but nothing further. The subject seemed too painful for Brenna to comment on and Ryrie let it go. She had her own painful memories of Colin and understood not wishing to discuss it. However, after witnessing the display, Ryrie wondered what might have happened to make two friends sworn enemies of each other.
Turning to follow her brother, Ryrie gave Colin a final glance to find him watching her intently, and then she left. Her unanswered questions would have to wait.
****
Night fell and Ryrie could not sleep. Her appetite made a pass in the night, which was amazing. Food, as of late, seemed her only comfort. Even Hannah, her handmaiden, eyed her strangely when she refused the evening meal.
Her thoughts were consumed with Colin and Darrius. She tried to push her curiosity out of her mind, yet to no avail. He disturbed her, making her feel like a foolish fourteen-year-old girl again with an impossible infatuation for an out of reach knight. A knock sounded on Ryrie’s bedchamber, pulling her out of her musings. Hannah went to answer it.
Simon appeared in the doorway.
Ryrie frowned. “Yes, Simon?”
He bowed respectfully. “My lady, I wish to have a private word, if you allow. I know the hour is late, but I will not stay long.”
She nodded her permission. “Of course.”
Simon only took two steps within the room as Hannah left quietly behind him, shutting the door. “Forgive the intrusion, but I wanted to make sure you were unharmed from the afternoon’s excitement.”
Ryrie chuckled, tossing her long braid over her shoulder, folding her arms in front of her. “Indeed, Simon, I am fine and thank you for your concern, but it is unnecessary as you see.”
Simon bowed again. “Very well, I shall leave you, that is… if you do not require anything else?”
She lifted a brow and pursed her lips, her mind still active with questions. “I am curious. I know I have not been here long, but I do find it odd that you would check on me. Did Darrius send you?”
He paled slightly under his skin, but quickly recovered and cleared his throat. “Nay, my lady. I just wanted to be sure—” he began only to have Ryrie cut him off.
“To be sure, I was unharmed. I find your curiosity for my welfare a matter of intrigue. Tell me, Simon, who sent you?” Her eyes bore into him unflinchingly. She had a lot of telling Darrius signs within her demeanor and stance.
He turned three shades of red, and he gulped. “The man that saved you. He asked that I make sure you were not suffering from any ill effects from your treatment earlier.”
Ryrie laughed, though she was not amused. Her heart made a beeline into rapid, choking her pulse with warmth. “Please tell Colin that I am fine.”
“Indeed, my lady. Forgive me.” He turned to leave, his embarrassment still riding high on his face.
However, she stopped him. “Wait, since you are here, I have a few questions for you.”
The young knight turned back, his blue eyes widening. “My lady?”
“I want to know what happened between my brother and Colin. Do not lie. I have known them both my whole life and I will know if you speak in truth.”
Simon rubbed the back of his neck. “What would you like to know?”
“When I last saw Darrius and Colin together, they were friends. What made them enemies?”
“Perhaps you should ask Lord—”
“I
am asking you.” She raised her chin, expecting an answer.
Simon explained their mission, the one where Darrius was instructed by King Henry to infiltrate Dorling Castle and impersonate his brother Gunther for the sake of the crown. The assignment appeared easy—seek out and expose lies. It was a task, so effortless, the knights of the Elite felt confident in overcoming all of the king’s foes. Until his lord fell in love with Lady Brenna. That complication left the Imperial Arm vulnerable to his enemies and the lady was kidnapped by Colin.
Ryrie’s mouth gaped open. “Colin betrayed Darrius? Why?” Her heart thumped hard in her chest and a sick-twisting sensation burned her belly. She could not imagine Simon’s answer. To be honest, she did not know what to expect, but it was not a story of this nature.
The younger man sighed. “Before I tell you why, you must know something. Colin and Darrius are half-brothers, sharing Lord Robert as a father.” As she gasped, he clarified the connection, sharing with Ryrie how Colin’s mother was Gunther’s nurse and Lord Robert used her. Colin was the result of their illicit affair. When the Lord of Dorling had no longer required Colin’s mother to care for his infant son, he made both her and Colin leave for good.
She shook her head. “But, this does not make sense to me. If they are truly brothers, why kidnap Lady Brenna? Why not embrace their connection?” From the rumors she had heard, Gunther had been a terrible man, much like Lord Robert had been, yet Colin was not. During the brief time she knew him, he seemed a man of honor.
“Colin had a sister and he assumed Darrius killed her, but it was not my lord—it was Gunther.”
Before Ryrie could react to the news, a knocked echoed through the chamber. She held up a finger to her lips, moving toward the door, grabbing her harp sitting on the table as she walked past. She had no idea who it could be. With a deep breath, she opened the door.
Darrius stood on the threshold, his smile fading when he saw his knight. His hand moved to the hilt of his sword. “Simon? You better have a good explanation for being in my sister’s bedchamber, or the fear you have of losing your head will become a reality.”
