by Beth Mikell
He bowed with theatrical drama. “My lady,” he said with a smile, his blue eyes winking a fair shout of mischievousness within their depths.
Ryrie returned his smile. “Hello, Simon. How are you today?” She ached to shout her happiness to the world, but refrained. However, her heart couldn’t wait to see Colin. She was nearly giddy.
“Good, my lady. Shall we?” He offered his arm to escort her to the tournament ground.
She took his proffered arm without hesitation. “Simon, after the tournament, Lady Adara has asked me to go riding with her, and I would like you to accompany me.”
He shot her a wary glance. “My lady, perhaps you should mention the outing to Darrius first. Blackstone lands will still hold a fair amount of rough knights within its borders so soon after the tournament. I would not want my lord to worry—”
“Stop, Simon. It will be fine,” she said firmly. “Lady Adara and her knights will come as well, and you will be there with me, so why trouble Darrius? He will have his hands full with the tournament and nobles. Besides, we will not go far,” Ryrie told him with a definite dismissal, though Simon didn’t look convinced.
****
The last day of the festivities echoed through the tournament grounds. Everyone was in high spirits for the last day of competition. Decimus, Lady Adara’s knight was favored to win, since his performance the day before gave him an outstanding advantage, but it was all speculation, of course.
As Ryrie and Simon neared the galleries for the nobles, a surge of nerves shot through her stomach. Colin stood close to the gallery stairs, speaking to Angus and Thomas. He looked powerfully dangerous in his armor with his broadsword hanging down his left hip. He had yet to tie back his hair and it hung down in a silky mass, reminding Ryrie how she had drawn her fingers through the luxurious hair just hours ago as he kissed her… tongued her.
A red flush spread over her cheeks, warming her face. She hoped no one noticed, but as Colin turned his gaze on her, Ryrie saw his eyes narrow and he smiled. Sweet panic filled her hypersensitive nerves with a savage rush. She ached to throw herself into his arms.
Decorum…? Sought after, but indeed a struggle.
“Ryrie, lass, you are as beautiful as the day is bright,” Angus said in his large voice with an even larger smile within his bearded face.
“Thank you, Angus,” she replied, unable to find anything of interest to say. Her mind was completely consumed by Colin’s intense gaze.
“I hope you will save a dance for this crusty, old knight later at the banquet, lass,” Angus said.
“Of course,” she said with a frown. “I was not aware the king employed ‘crusty old knights’ within the Imperial Elite.” Her violet eyes shimmered playfully, but it was her heart that fluttered, pounding hard in her chest.
Angus beamed proudly. “‘Tis your kindness, lass. And thank you.”
Ryrie nodded to the men, her eyes holding Colin’s for seconds longer before ascending the gallery stairs to take her seat at Darrius’s side.
He gave his sister a worried look as she sat down beside him, “Small thistle, are you unwell? I have been very concerned about you, though you look beautiful and radiant as always.”
Ryrie leaned forward to kiss her brother’s cheek. “I just needed to rest. All is well now, brother.”
To her right sat Lady Adara whom she greeted warmly. The lady inquired after their riding later that afternoon and Ryrie informed her that she was pleasantly looking forward to it.
The tournament went smoothly, eliminating contestants steadily throughout the day until only Colin and Decimus remained. Though it was a close match, both were equally matched in size and strength. In the end it was Colin who finally shattered Decimus’s lance, therefore becoming the winner of the tournament and recipient of the one hundred gold coins.
To Ryrie’s observation, if Darrius felt annoyed with his half-brother’s win, he did not show any irritation. In fact Darrius smiled, shocking her beyond words. A strange hope lit within Ryrie that perhaps her brother would be inclined toward Colin and forgive the past. Dare she hope that she could have both men she loved in her life? Loved? Yes, she did love Colin. She always had, though he had broken her heart years ago.
She pushed it to the back of her mind, waiting for the right moment to share. Perhaps she could have professed her love last night while in Colin’s arms, but to what avail? The love in her heart was too deep to express so carelessly with flippant words, and she wanted the freedom of her love—with Darrius’s approval. She would find a way to bring everyone together and finally receive the ultimate desire of her heart—her love and her family—together for all time.
****
Ryrie sat on her black palfrey. Simon waited beside her on his warhorse, while Lady Adara and her two knights, Cylah and Decimus, mounted their horses.
Unlike the unusual dresses Lady Adara wore during the tournament days, she now donned specially made female armor similar to Cylah’s. The metal armor fit snugly over her breasts down to her hips with bell sleeves in sheer black covering her shoulders and sleek metal gauntlets over her wrists. Wide strips of black leather made up the skirt to her knees, with black leather pants and black knee boots.
Lady Adara’s dark red hair had been braided then coiled up on her head, and a swath of sheer black fabric draped over serenely before falling over her shoulders wrapped crisscross around her neck then down her back. At her waist lay both dagger and broadsword.
Simon’s eyes grew large when he saw Lady Adara’s armor, flashing a tight smile toward Ryrie, and she grinned at his unease.
“Are you ready, Ryrie?” Lady Adara smiled, her dark eyes near black. She vaulted up on Isidore, and her shield with the HieLach family seal gleamed on the saddle.
“Indeed, shall we?” She took up her reins, giving her horse a light kick forward, and drawing up her mount next to Lady Adara.
All five riders took off—over the land of Blackstone—destination unknown.
****
Darrius strolled through the gates of Blackstone Castle followed by his Imperial Elite and Colin. The awarding of the prizes took longer than necessary, but he finally finished. The men followed the Imperial Arm, laughing and fellowshipping with familiar camaraderie that somehow eased Darrius’s spirit. Even Colin’s presence did not protest his control as it once had. He did not feel the need to kill him every time he saw him, which was a definite improvement. Perhaps Brenna’s insistence on better relations with his half-brother would mend, but only time would tell.
Jacob, Simon’s squire, met the Imperial Elite as his retinue of knights made their way through the lower bailey, bowing his head before Darrius. “My lord, forgive me, but I have a message from my lord Simon.”
Rowan snickered at the “my lord Simon” remark and nudged his brother, Nyle, in the arm.
Darrius turned to give Rowan a curt glance of annoyance, and his cousin sobered. “What is it, Jacob?”
The nervous boy looked about fifteen and scared to death. “He said he took Lady Ryrie riding with Lady Adara and her two knights.”
Darrius’ eyes narrowed. “When did they leave?”
“An hour ago, sir. My lord Simon also said he would direct the riding party toward the glen near the river,” Jacob informed.
Colin took a step forward, his face scrubbed with worry. “Lord Darrius, it is dangerous out there. Blackstone lands are crawling with Gray Legion knights.”
“Aye,” the Imperial Arm said quietly, his mind racing over the facts that were laid out before him. “Not only the Gray Legion knights, but who would they attack to receive the most benefit?”
“Lady Adara!” Colin hissed.
“Exactly! Lady Adara’s father has the largest, most coveted keep within the borderlands. With her father’s illness, and if they killed her, the Gray Legion would reach their goal easily,” Darrius said succinctly. “Oh God… Ryrie!”
Darrius reacted quickly, ordering the Imperial Elite and Colin to ready the
ir horses. “Jacob, after we clear the keep, ask John to close the portcullis and drawbridge until our return. No one is allowed in or out. Then, go stay with Lady Brenna and Lady Linnea—do not leave their side,” he ordered and without a backwards glance to the boy, he took off for the stables—a sense of hell ready to swallow his control.
****
Before the echo of Darrius’ orders finished, Colin was in a dead run toward the stables, not waiting for anyone else. Everything fell apart inside his heart and soul. Ryrie had become every part of his life within—what? In forever. No other woman had touched the reality of his cold revenge-filled heart. She was worth fighting for.
Every sweet promise of the future was held within her presence. He knew he was ready to combat the darkest hell for her purity, safety, and remain faithful to the heart of love storming through his heart. He only had to save her.
Grabbing his swords and shield, and securing everything, Colin vaulted upon his brown war horse, reining up alongside Darrius, giving him a cursory glance. They took off with the Imperial Elite at their heels. All seven riders pounded the earth in pursuit of saving innocence with bravery, courage, honor, and gallantry toward women—the knight’s code of chivalry. But for each man, it was more than that—they were saving Ryrie, sister, friend, cousin, and most of all… the beloved of Colin’s heart.
****
Lady Adara and Ryrie drew up alongside the river’s bed of the soft grass, dismounting from their horses. Cylah and Decimus did not join them, remaining on their mounts a fair distance away. Simon reined his horse and dismounted, staying close to Ryrie—his blue eyes in constant pursuit.
Isidore and Ryrie’s palfrey moved to drink from the river’s offering of cool, crisp water as Lady Adara and Ryrie bent down to refresh themselves.
“Ah, this water is so cold. I love it!” Ryrie splashed her hands through the water.
Lady Adara agreed with a soft smile. “It is refreshing. I have missed being outside these last few days, my lady. Thank you for joining me today. Though, your knight, Simon seems… nervous.” She cast the younger man a glance
She turned to look over her shoulder and found him pacing back and forth, rubbing the back of his neck. She chuckled. “That is Simon’s natural behavior. If he is not nervous, he is grumbling about losing his head.”
Lady Adara gave a musical laugh, standing up beside her new friend. “Well, he certainly is handsome,” she said with a wink.
Ryrie grinned. “Shall I introduce you?”
The Lady bowed graciously. “Nay, my lady. I do not have the time for romance. I shall retain your suggestion for another time,” she said with a smile. “One never knows.”
“My Lady! Riders coming in—from all directions!” Decimus called out, pulling his sword from its sheath.
Lady Adara unsheathed her broadsword in quick response, grabbing her shield from her saddle as Cylah rushed to her side. Simon came to Ryrie, pulling his sword and moved to stand in front of her. Only Decimus remained on his horse. The four individuals beside the water’s edge waited in anticipation for the incoming riders—uncertain if they were friend or foe happening upon their simple riding party.
When the first two riders cleared the woods, it was clear they were not friendly knights moving with good intentions. With their swords drawn, they went immediately for Decimus. The clang of metal sang through the air—swords against swords danced.
Fear clenched inside Ryrie and she grabbed Simon’s arm. “Oh God, Simon.”
“Easy, my lady. They will have to get through all of us—first,” Simon whispered.
More riders cleared the woods like the river that ran behind them, but even as he said the words, clearly they were outmatched. Cylah, Lady Adara, and Simon stood with their weapons poised and clustered around Ryrie, ready for any sudden movements from their oppressors.
“There’s too many!” Ryrie gave up the count as the number climbed past ten.
“God’s teeth! This is no ordinary attack, Lady Adara!” Cylah exclaimed. “This is a trap—most likely to kill you!”
Lady Adara’s black eyes narrowed on the approaching knights. “If it is a fight they want, then it is a fight they will receive.” She pulled a small dagger from inside her metal gauntlet and she waited until the knights drew closer. “I will not go down easily.”
Ryrie recognized two of the knights from the tournament, James and Sven, drawing closer with three other armed knights.
“Well, well, what do we have here, Sven?” James eyed them like prey.
The other knight laughed. “Looks like Christmas, eh, James?”
“Most definitely.”
Lady Adara threw her small dagger, hitting one of the knights in the throat and he slid to the ground off his horse in a dead mass of flesh. James and Sven’s eyes widened, their demonic expression’s changing from sinister glee to murderous intent.
“Kill them,” James ordered darkly.
Chapter 10
As Darrius, Colin, and the Imperial Elite cleared the crest near the glen, the river glistened in the muted afternoon light. However, no one slowed their pace as they observed the clash of metal overcoming Lady Adara’s riding party with Ryrie center stage.
Colin sought only his love.
She stood near the river with a large knight bearing down on her. He pushed his horse harder and faster, but nothing prepared him for the sight of the knight angling his sword for attack. Colin’s breath suspended. Fear tore him apart. His worst nightmare was laid out. The knight sliced his sword through the air, ripping into Ryrie. To Colin’s horror, she flew back into the river, her scream muffled by the terror of his own voice.
“Ryrie!”
Colin pulled his broadsword, but he continued at his breakneck speed. The object of his intent—to kill the knight that injured Ryrie. As he drew closer, he realized it was the bastard James. Rage burst inside him. Colin intended to ram the knight with his horse, but James ducked out of the way and Colin’s horse ran into the river, but he leaped down. Anger fueled his dark wrath as he hit the water, soaking him. He went to reach for Ryrie floating in the water, but James leaped closer, swinging his sword.
Colin blocked the attack, and he grabbed another sword at his shoulder harness, swinging. He fought James with two. The other knight was caught off guard, barely able to swing his broadsword fast enough to hit back.
From the corner of Colin’s eye, he saw Angus battling nearby. “Angus!”
From James’ expression, he was stunned as the giant Imperial knight bore down on him, relieving Colin from his fight. He turned back to Ryrie. Uncaring of his swords, he threw them to the ground, scooping her up in his arms. He carried her to dry land, and he tenderly lay Ryrie down on the grass.
“Nyle!” Colin bellowed, looking down at the blood seeping through Ryrie’s cream colored gown and fear gave way to internal hysteria. “Ryrie, can you hear me?” He cupped her pale face, smoothing her black hair away from her cheeks and her violet eyes mere slits.
Ryrie groaned. “Colin… oh my god… help… me,” she croaked.
“Nyle, get over here, now!” Colin roared, his voice booming out over the intense battle raging all around him.
He pulled back the fabric of Ryrie’s blood soaked gown and his heart seized with fear from the gash in her side. Her life’s blood poured over his hand to the ground. “Sweetness, stay with me. I need you…” he whispered, trying to get Ryrie to look at him as Nyle sank down beside him.
The healer worked quickly, reaching for his herb pouch, and he dropped a handful into Ryrie’s wound then sealed up it up with cloth. “She needs to go back to the keep—at once!” Nyle said with a shake of his head.
“Help me! Hand her up to me.” Colin reached for the reins of the first available horse, which was Isidore, Lady Adara’s warhorse. Oddly enough, she did not protest as Colin vaulted up on her back.
Nyle gathered Ryrie up in his arms, handing her up to Colin’s waiting arms as Darrius reached them.
&
nbsp; “Holy hell!” Darrius exclaimed.
“We have to get her back to the keep, now, Darrius.” Colin hissed.
“She is losing blood fast, my lord!” Nyle explained, reaching for a horse and mounting up.
“Go! Go, now!” Darrius said.
****
Ryrie moaned from the jarring of the horse ride back to the keep, but after a while, she slipped into unconsciousness. Colin’s arms tightened around her, holding her closer to his body. If she was aware of anything, she did not respond.
All at once, the memories of losing his sister, Phoebe, swam through Colin’s mind. Losing her, his mother, even Darrius’s respect tortured him. Nothing upon nothing felt as dark as the thought of losing the precious woman within his arms. The fallen soldier, who had made mistake after mistake, regretted all his choices until they twisted his soul in despair. Silent tears slipped down his cheeks, and the nothingness filled him.
Ryrie. His beautiful Ryrie.
“God, please do not take her from me,” he pleaded. “I just found her and I have not… told her I love her. Please sweetness…” Colin pushed Isidore faster and faster toward Blackstone, which lie in the distance.
As they drew closer, Nyle called out to John to open the drawbridge and portcullis. Both riders cleared the entrance, driving their horses with savage finesse all the way up to the keep door. Nyle reached for Ryrie, but Colin would not allow him to take her and dismounted with Ryrie securely in his arms. If Nyle thought anything strange with how Colin reacted, he gave no indication.
The door of the keep swung wide open, and Brenna, Linnea, and Maude filed out around them.
“Dear God…” the women exclaimed in unison as they saw a bloodied Ryrie in Colin’s arms, but it was Brenna that gave the order.
“Maude, show Colin where Ryrie’s room—” Brenna began, but he cut her off.
“I know where it is, my lady.” He rushed past the women through the keep, taking the stairs two at a time with no effort while Nyle sprinted behind him. The trio of women was at the rear.
