Daring Damsels

by Domning, Denise

  Lord, I pray to get out of this alive.

  Alexander rode like a bat out of hell from the king’s castle and didn’t stop until Hero nearly collapsed, and even then he only borrowed horses from a village, leaving a man to return his horse when Hero was rested. His men all followed, and the king having heard the news from the messenger himself had ordered some of his own men to pack up Alexander’s things and follow.

  His earlier fears of someone trying to harm Chloe while he was away had come true, and he prayed to God that he could find her in time.

  Why hadn’t he left more specific orders? Why didn’t he have guards standing watch around her bed while she slept? Why hadn’t he thought of the secret passageways in the castle and had them boarded up? He should have brought her with him like she asked.

  Questions whirled through his mind, and guilt whipped at his back. He blamed himself for this whole tragic happening. He had felt something like this would happen. He should have followed his instincts and took further precautions.

  As he neared Hardwyck Castle, he saw his father’s men gathered in the bailey. Either the messenger had failed to relay that his father was visiting or he had only just arrived. He prayed that it was the latter, since he had yet to tell his father of his decision.

  I will find you soon my love, he vowed to Chloe and himself, before jumping from his horse and then running up the keep stairs two and a time. He burst through the door and into the great hall.

  “Edward,” he bellowed, leaning his head all the way back, his arms in the air. The building seemed to shake with the force of the air from his lungs.

  At first he did not see his father standing there. He blinked a few times and then walked forward. The earl, usually in an angered fiery state, was in exceptionally rare form. His father stood tall and proud, and then, as if bursting at the seams with joy, he literally ran forward to clasp his son in his grasp.

  The breath nearly squeezed out of him, Alexander patted his father on the back a couple of times, and stared at his steward Harold, who now stood behind his father’s back. He raised his eyes to the steward in question, but all Harold could do was raise his shoulders in an equally confused state and shake his head. He was glad his father had let him choose his own servants at Hardwyck.

  The earl stepped back from him and Alexander was able to look at him. He’d aged much in the six months since Alexander had seen him last. His hair, which was grey for many years, had lost much of its luster, and thinned tremendously. His face, weathered from years outdoors, was wrinkled all over, giving him a look that was many years older than all his fifty-four years. His eyes had a sunken look. It was obvious to Alexander that the old earl was losing strength and would not be within the land of the living much longer.

  He expected to see his father after the fiasco at the South Hearth, but his father had not arrived until now. And now he wasn’t sure how he felt about his father’s arrival. He was distraught over Chloe’s abduction. He couldn’t sit with his father whether he demanded it or not. Edward ran into the great hall just as quickly as Alexander himself had.

  “My lord,” was all he said, anguish evident in his voice.

  “Edward, we must speak immediately. I apologize father, but I must speak with my man. My betrothed is missing. I must locate her. Harold, gather the servants. I would know everything they know.” He tried to brush past his father, when spindly sharp fingers wrapped around his elbow.

  He was through dealing with the old man. He’d had enough. Chloe taught him he was a better man, capable and that he didn’t need his father’s power or wrath to control him.

  “Come and sit, my boy, I have much to discuss with you,” his father commanded.

  Alexander nodded, placating his father for the moment, while dealing with his racing heart at the same time. He walked to the ornately carved throne chairs that sat facing the large fire, and indicated for his father to follow.

  “Edward, gather the knights. Tonight we ride,” Alexander said before sitting down. Time to settle things with his father.

  “More wood!” the earl ordered. “These servants of yours aren’t worth their weight! Why have they not built me a great fire? Can’t they see that I am old?” he ranted before collapsing into the chair beside Alexander.

  Alexander rolled his eyes. He didn’t have time for the trivial rantings of an old man. His mind only had room for Chloe, and he planned to sit with his father, only so he could think, perhaps he could even enlist his father’s help.

  “What brings you to Hardwyck father?” Alexander asked, changing the subject.

  “Ah, the question of the hour. Where were you?” his father asked, eyeing him up and down.

  “There is something I need to discuss with you. My bride, Lady Chloe, has come to Hardwyck. I had gone to the king to petition for the approval of our marriage, and I have now found out that she has been stolen from me.” The anger in him grew as he said the words aloud. And here he sat doing nothing, while she was out being terrorized by some heathens. He stood, no longer able to sit and began to pace the length of the fire, his hands clasped behind his back.

  At this, the earl’s eyes narrowed. His lips puckered into a sneer. Alexander hadn’t expected much better than this reaction to his news. All the same, he felt the fury in him close to exploding. All his life he’d done his father’s bidding. The man had disregarded anything Alexander had ever cared for, including his own mother. He felt the blood in his veins go from hot to cold and back again. If he didn’t leave soon, he would lose control, and his father would be on the receiving end of his wrath. That would only anger the king, and right now, the last thing he needed was to be at odds with King Henry.

  “So the treacherous little chit decided to come forward. No doubt she was afraid to lose her head over this. Well, she shall. She came too late!” He struck his fist onto the arm of the throne chair.

  Alexander sucked in his breath, fear immediately gripping him. Why did he have the sudden premonition that his father was behind Chloe’s disappearance? Lord, help him. If his father was the culprit, than she could be dead already. His heart constricted, and he nearly choked on his fear. He would not allow his father to take her from him.

  Alexander slammed his hands on the arms of the chair on either side of his father, his face coming within inches of the old man. “What have you done?” Alexander’s voice was low and threatening.

  At first his father look shocked, but then a smug, evil countenance came over him. Alexander was taken aback, he stood, his stance battle ready, and reached for the sword at his side.

  A look of surprise crossed his father’s face quickly before replacing itself with a sneer of triumph.

  “What have I done?” His father sat forward, his hands on his knees as if he would stand, but he only stayed in that position. “What have you done gallivanting around with a traitor? Ruining your own family name. You have the nerve to ask what I have done?” his father hissed before falling into a fit of coughing.

  “She had no idea about the order from the King, nor the treason her parents committed. She is an innocent, and I intend to honor our previous agreement. I have done nothing dishonorable, and I have the king’s back in this matter.” He stepped forward, this time he pulled his sword from its sheath, the steel glinting with light from the fire. His father looked at the weapon and then back at Alexander. His eyes held challenge. He believed Alexander wouldn’t harm him. But the question was, did Alexander believe it? “I ask you again, what have you done with my bride?”

  The Earl sputtered, obviously shocked Alexander would stand up to him.

  “You dare to tell me who you will marry? Do you not remember who is earl? You are my vassal. I could strip you of all you will inherit. Do you dare to defy me, over some worthless female?”

  “Aye father, I remember you are earl. But I remain loyal above all others to King Henry, who has agreed to the union.” Alexander knelt, his face coming within inches of his father’s. The old man was so de
crepit and small. Alexander towered over the shriveled relic of a man. “I would marry her whether as the future Earl of Northumberland, or as a penniless knight with a few holdings. Either way, I intend to have her. Do you defy your king?” Alexander was not going to back down.

  He had given his word to Chloe, and right now he could imagine her at the mercy of whoever held her, possibly his own father, waiting for him to come and fetch her. For all her innocence, she had a hard edge, and an unforgiving one. He hoped that she’d be able to use it to her advantage and keep herself alive. He would find her and save her, and he would not let her down. I love her. There was no way he would tell his father his feelings. The man, so unhappy, would no doubt send out henchmen that moment to strike her down, should he find out that his son had feelings for the woman.

  How was it possible, with a man like the Earl of Northumberland as his father, that Alexander had not grown insane? How did he turn out half-way decent and with a heart to boot?

  His father stared at him with new eyes. They were not friendly, quite the opposite, he could see rage burning behind the dark holes, see that the earl was now planning a punishment for Alexander, for Chloe. He had to make his father understand, and force him to reveal Chloe’s whereabouts, if indeed he had her at all. And she better damned well be alive.

  The man breathed rapidly through clenched teeth but did not respond. Alexander stood and stepped back, hoping that his show of respect would persuade his father to tell him what he needed to know.

  “It is a matter of pride. I must honor our family, in that it was said I would marry her to keep the peace. We have her land. Why not continue with our end of the bargain?” Alexander questioned, hoping that his father might turn his mind around and reveal where he’d hidden Chloe.

  “Bah! Do not let the eyes of one meaningless chit take your mind, or rather, your cock away from what really matters. She is nothing, even if she tells you she knew nothing, she lies. I have heard much of her, and she only came here to poison your mind and ruin your people. The king is blind if he thinks that this girl is the right one for you. I will speak to King Henry. I have taken it upon myself to right this situation. She will be punished and it will be her death, and you will be the one to end her life, Lord Hardwyck, the Dragon,” his father hissed at him, rancid hate coming out of his mouth.

  She was still alive. Anger rose through Alexander quickly like the current in the river of a storm. How could his father have done this? He had gone too far this time. The sound that escaped from his throat, resounded off of walls and sent several of the servants from the room. He heard a unilateral clank of metal and realized that all of his knights that had gathered in the great hall now stood behind him, swords drawn and at the ready.

  “Father, where is she?” Alexander grasped him by the shoulders and began to shake. The earl’s head flopped back and forth like a doll and he began to cough and sputter. When Alexander set him right it looked as though the devil himself were staring at him.

  “What’s done is done. You’ll move on. Forget the Scots twit. She wouldn’t make you happy anyway. Have you already defiled the girl? Good for you she won’t go to hell a virgin. Pity we should put to death a woman who possibly carries an heir,” the earl said not even bothering to wait for answers. The old man stood emotionless, his eyes like two empty orbs straight from purgatory and beyond. He was oblivious to the crowd of seething men at arms who were hungry to dispatch of him. “You will never find her, Alexander. I have her secreted away in a place worse than any nightmare, with men who wish to eat her alive. Death will come before I whisper where she may be.”

  Alexander could only stare at his father in disbelief. How could this man truly be his blood?

  Evil, vile man. When I become earl, I will certainly not let myself succumb to such hatred.

  Alexander motioned to Edward, before he did something he would later regret—like murder his own father. “Take him to the tower, and throw his men in the dungeon,” his voice was devoid of emotion.

  “You do not dare to imprison me,” the earl growled.

  “Oh, aye, I do. I will send a messenger to the king to let him know that I have done so and why. He will support me. You have made a grave mistake father, and you will pay for it. You and your men will be locked away until you tell me where my bride is. And if you do not, then death will not come swift and sweet. You will wish you had never come here. You will beg for your journey to hell to commence.”

  Alexander turned and left the keep, ignoring his father’s shouts and threats. He needed to think. He walked to Chloe’s garden and sat amongst the sweet smelling herbs and flowers. He would wait a few more minutes before returning to the keep. Once his orders were followed, he would speak to the knights and servants. Someone had to know something.

  He couldn’t lose her. He had never felt such a connection with a woman before. His feelings were so overpowering, he felt weak at the sight of her.

  He had truly met his match, his soul mate. He never had conversations like the ones he shared with Chloe. She didn’t feel inferior to him. She felt like his equal. When they talked she had no problem telling him what she thought was wrong, and what he should do about it. She had so many opinions about the way he should run the village, and how he should treat the people. And he agreed with her, looked forward to her council.

  Once he’d brought up the fact that she had lived with her parents, who from what he could tell treated their people worse than he did, especially their own daughter. She had taken exception to this, and had become angry at him. Their argument had been fierce, and she had stormed off saying she never wanted to see him again, that she would rather live out her days as a commoner, than spend another waking moment with him. Alexander had panicked, and felt like a part of him was walking away. He was physically ill thinking about not having her by his side for the rest of his days. He’d run after her, grabbing her arm, and begging forgiveness. She’d averted her eyes, but the moment she turned back their gazes locked and they’d both melted. He took her into his arms, told her he loved her and kissed the anger right out of her.

  He trusted his men, especially Edward and Harold. He knew they would give anything for him. He had their loyalty. Although his father was an earl, Edward and Harold had always sworn to uphold his loyalty even if that meant going against his father.

  In the last few years he’d become so fierce, a real fighter, a punisher, a dragon as his men called him. Yet, when Chloe had come into his life, everything had changed. He was still a force to be reckoned with, but he cared more for his people then he did before.

  He shook his head. The woman had completely changed him. Before a bride meant to beget an heir, now it meant more. It meant companionship, someone to help him rule his people. It meant love.

  He looked up at the sky. Dark clouds loomed in the distance, giving off the same feeling he had in his heart. Like hell itself was chasing at his heels.

  He stood and walked back to the great hall. It was time to find out as much as he could, and then he and his men would ride. He wanted her back in his arms tonight. He couldn’t wait longer than that. He had to know she was safe and with him.

  Commotion at the foot of the keep averted his attention. A man was bent over, breathing deeply, surrounded by Alexander’s men.

  “What’s going on?” Alexander demanded.

  “My lord, when I was out tending the sheep, I saw three men. I hid from them, borrowed a neighbor’s work horse and followed them a bit, in case they were going to cause trouble—they didn’t look like they belonged. Real sneaky they was. I heard them speak.” He took a deep breath, his words coming fast. “I heard them speak of the booty they had in the back of their wagon. They spoke of Lady Chloe.”

  “You will lead us to where you saw them.” Before the words were out of his mouth, Edward rode up on his horse, twenty knights behind him. Alexander nodded to Edward, mounted his horse and ordered the peasant onto the horse of his knight, Sir Brendan.

 
; While he rode fast out of the village, he looked toward the sky and thanked God for leading this man to him. Then he thanked God again for sending someone as compassionate to the village as Chloe. For, had it not been for her and her kind heart, he doubted that this peasant would have come forward with the news of his sighting.

  Henrys sat in a ball on the floor of the tower cell. He could hear through the tiny window in the room the sound of knights riding out.

  They will find her.

  He repeated the conversation—or rather argument—that he had with his son over and over again in his mind. If anyone could find her it would be Alexander.

  He coughed and spewed blood over the front of his tunic. He was cold with no fire to warm him, and the stones underneath his old bones where he sat, froze his blood.

  He had never seen Alexander so determined, so furious. His son always obeyed him. He had worried that this traitor would ruin their name, and sworn to avenge his son for being used and then punish him for his empty head. But Alexander said the king was on his side.

  The king has his back. I will be the one punished.

  Henrys had thought to live out the few days he had left in comfort—before consumption overtook him. Now it appeared he would be living those days inside of the tower cell. Unless the king had other plans for him. His death could be ordered in the next two days.

  Henrys had always thought he had the ear of King Henry. He had so many lands, titles and riches that the king usually was on his side, and wanted to please him. However now, if what Alexander said about the king was true, then he, Henrys, was lost. It appeared his own flesh and blood had usurped him. How ironic since he’d done the same to his own father.

  The king would not take lightly to him abducting his son’s betrothed, especially if he just approved of their marriage. His majesty didn’t like people to counteract him. And with as much power as Henrys held, the king may see it as a rebellion, which would mean certain death.