Daring Damsels

by Domning, Denise

  Henrys’ head fell back against the cool wall, a sharp pain from a protruding piece of rock split down the back of his skull. He touched the spot, his fingers coming away filled with blood. He had his answer. He now knew how he could escape his son, the king and the consumption that threatened his life. He would rather kill himself then be executed.

  The guards who’d thrown him in the tower in their haste to find their mistress had not removed the dirk kept in his belt. He pulled the blade from its sheath, looked straight ahead and prayed for forgiveness, for taking one’s own life was a mortal sin. Not that the life he’d led wouldn’t send him to fiery depths of hell anyway.

  He smiled realizing if Alexander failed, Chloe’s whereabouts would remain a mystery that Henrys would take to his grave.

  He closed his eyes, folded his fingers tightly over the handle of the dirk, and thrust it with all his might into his heart. His fingers clutched tight to one another, his teeth clenched, as the pain he caused himself coursed through him.

  His body grew weak, his blood pooling on the ground around him. He slumped to the floor, and took one last ragged breath.

  Chloe awoke to the sound of the men whispering to each other. Her body which had ached, was now tingly with numbness. Her wrists and ankles were bound so tight. She’d laid there for what felt like days, but in actuality she wasn’t sure how long, she’d completely lost track of time. Every once in awhile they’d feed her a vile brew that stayed her hunger and made her sleep.

  But now, the drugged liquid had worn off. How many days had she lain here?

  She kept her breathing even, and tried to hear what the men said as she deliberately willed her fingers to wiggle. She reached with semi-numb fingers to feel the knot at her wrists. She moved her wrists slowly, trying hard to loosen the tightly bound rope.

  “What are we to do with ‘er?”

  “Yeah, boss, I’d like a little piece of ‘er.”

  “The earl didn’t say anything about not touchin’ ‘er boys. We’re just supposed to be holdin’ ‘er ‘ere until he sends us word,” the leader said.

  The earl? Alexander’s father had been behind her abduction? She was right. He did want to finish her off.

  “She’s a feisty one. I’d like to get my hands on ‘er, maybe all three of us at once.”

  So there were three of them, and she didn’t like the way the conversation was going. Her skin prickled with renewed fear. She wiggled her wrists a little quicker, trying not to move too much, she didn’t want it to be obvious that she was awake. She was a little surprised she was still alive and as yet, untouched. But it was too much to hope they wouldn’t eventually defile her.

  “I say we take turns,” one of the followers sneered.

  “Yeah, I get to go first.” A round of chuckles came about, and then a shuffling of feet came toward her.

  “What are ye doing?”

  “I’m gonna wake her up, I want to see her eyes while I take ‘er, feel ‘er move.”

  The men chuckled some more, their lecherous laughs sending chills down her spine. If only she could get her hands free, then she could get to the small dagger she kept tied around her thigh. They’d been stupid enough not to remove it.

  One of the men’s hot breaths wafted over her face, and she became still. His breath smelled foul and rotten. She resisted the urge to gag and instead held her breath.

  “Wake up my lady, or should I call ye the lord’s whore? We all knows ye ain’t no lady, ye treacherous little chit. Wake up now, ‘tis time to entertain yer captors.”

  He stroked a nasty, rough hand down the side of her face and further down her neck, then stopped. He tugged on the rag covering her eyes, and then light filtered through her closed lids. She didn’t want to give into him, and show him her eyes, she wanted to stay asleep, wished she was. She was helpless, bound so tight, there was nothing she could do to protect herself from this venomous man.

  Then his fingers were on her wrists and hands as he untied the rope, and moved slower still. His nasty hands stroked her calves as he untied the rope that bound her ankles. Sweet relief filled her at finally being mobile, but involuntarily she shuddered in disgust at the exploration his hands were doing.

  “See that boys? She twitches at my touch. I might just have more fun than I thought.” His putrid breath was hot on her face and then his slimy tongue licked a path from her chin to her ear. “Ye awake little lady? Twitch for me again.” He breathed into her ear as his hands slowly stroked the length of her calf again and slowly moved upward, over her knee and to her thigh.

  She willed herself not to move, and again had to resist the urge to gag.

  Abruptly he stopped his stroking, his body going stiff. “Ye hear that?”

  “Yeah boss, sounds like someone’s coming.” From outside the thundering of far off hoof beats echoed faintly.

  Oh, God! More vile men were coming! She’d be forced to endure the molestation of scores of swain!

  “Let’s go check it out.”

  “But we can’t leave the girl, boss.”

  There was a moment of silence, and Chloe refused to breathe. Her lungs stung and panic ebbed at the edges of her nerves.

  Then the man laughed. “We’ll truss her back up. She’s passed out. Ain’t goin’ nowhere quick. Come on.”

  One man made quick work of tying her hands and ankles back up. When they retreated from the room, she chanced to open her lids a sliver, the light from the fire and candles nearly blinding her.

  As soon as the door was closed behind them, she opened her eyes wide and took in her surroundings. It was a one room hut, and she lay on a dirty cot. God only knew what else lay with her. A small fireplace held a pot, and four stools sat precariously around a small wooden table. There were no windows.

  She couldn’t waste any time. Lord knew when they’d return and she wasn’t about to wait for them. Luckily for her the man had tied her hands in front of her, and he didn’t do a very good job of it. With sore fingers she worked at the knots at her wrists, feeling awkward and frustrated when they would appear to get loose and then tighten again. She used her teeth, and finally what seemed an interminably long time later, she was able to get her hands free, and untie her ankles.

  Slowly she stood, her legs almost giving way. She shook her limbs back to life and then tiptoed to the door. She had no idea where she was, but she had to get out. Shuffling with her nightdress she ripped the dagger from its sheath and held it in a deathlike grip. She had to leave these despicable criminals behind. If she couldn’t find her way back to Hardwyck, perhaps some kind soul would take mercy on her and help her to get there.

  She put her ear to the door and listened. Were the vagrants right outside? She heard nothing, and painstakingly slow, she opened the door a crack to peek through. The light of day outside had begun to fade, but there was enough for her to see the men were not immediately in the vicinity. Judging from the pink inky hues overhead, darkness would soon fall.

  Chloe opened the door a little further and looked to see where they may have tethered their horses. Across a small clearing, littered with wood cut for a fire, broken pots, piles of rubbish, empty tipped over barrels she spied a horse tied to a tree leading into the forest. Her captors must have taken the other horses when they went to meet their accomplices.

  They’d really taken her to the middle of nowhere. The hut was placed right in the middle of a clearing, surrounded by forest, and it was doubtful anyone would come to her rescue if she screamed. There were no sounds of a neighboring village, no echoes of an axe chopping wood, or children playing in a spring. The wild beat of horse’s hooves she’d heard moments before stopped, only making the fear in her heart and body resonate exponentially. Her heart beat rapidly, echoing loudly in her ears. Only silence accompanied with the sounds of nature. Shadows lurked everywhere. And from the corners of her eyes, her mind played tricks on her, making every movement of the wind and trees appear to be one of her captors pouncing on her.

  T
aking a chance she stepped outside, her body stiff as she stood still and listened, her dagger poised to strike. A breeze ruffled her nightdress sending chills up and down her limbs. Dear Lord! She was more frightened then she’d ever been in her life. She didn’t care that she was half naked, she needed to get out of here and quick. She didn’t see or hear anyone. With one deep breath, Chloe made a mad dash to the horse and stood behind it for a moment to listen. Had they heard her? The horse whinnied and she shushed him with soothing words, rubbing her hand softly over his warm mane, over his back and down his flank.

  She could hear her captors now. They weren’t very far off in the forest just behind her. They whispered, and their horses walked silently, a twig snapping beneath their hooves every so often. Oh God! She ducked down to the ground, crouching low, afraid they might have seen her. But when they made no move to run toward her, nor shout at her, she slowly raised herself from the ground to a hunched over position.

  She made quick work of untying the horse, praising and whispering to him as she grabbed his mane and hauled herself to his back. Thank goodness she was a proficient rider, or else she wasn’t sure how she would have been able to climb onto the horse’s back without a saddle to guide her. There was no saddle in sight, and she didn’t have to time to put one on anyway. Urgency filled her. She had to remember to breath.

  She crouched low on the horse’s back, hugging his neck, trying to sink into the animal’s form as she slowly led him to the forest edge, then urged him into a full gallop once she broke through the trees. The shouts from the men behind her echoed in her ears. They’d seen her escape. She urged the horse faster, but it refused, slowing to a trot.

  “Come on, horse, please, I must escape,” she said desperately, urging the horse on, begging him. She didn’t want them to catch her. Whatever they had planned for her would be worse if they caught her.

  But her horse wouldn’t listen! The animal was skittish of the shadows, the snapping of the sticks beneath his hooves, and the rustling of the leaves above.

  Chloe cried out at the sound of hoof beats behind her, in front of her, to the sides. It seemed they came from everywhere and all at once. She could just picture being surrounded and hunted down like a stag. They were gaining on her. Her horse slowed down even further at the sound of the others getting closer.

  “No, horse! Go, go, go,” Chloe chanted, tears streaming down her face. She panicked, looking all around her. She didn’t know which way to go. Everything looked the same. There was no specific path, and she had no clue which way they’d come from in the first place. She reached behind her and slammed her palm into the horse’s flank, a stinging slap that left her own palm tender. The horse seemed to feel her angst, and picked up speed, barreling forward.

  They tore through the forest, Chloe clutching the animal’s neck and hoping the imbeciles that chased her wouldn’t be able to catch up.

  She closed her eyes and let the horse lead her, slapping the mare periodically on the flank. A few minutes later the sound of the men behind her disappeared and it was only she and her horse in the woods. She urged her mount forward not willing to see if the men would catch up to her, not caring about why they stopped. Her only goal was to get away, far, far, away.

  The tired horse came to a stop abruptly, nearly sending Chloe tumbling to the ground below. She caught herself, sat up on the horses’ back and stared around the forest, trying to see what had made the horse stop moving.

  She could see nothing. The sun had now set, and there was nothing visible beyond dark shadows. Above the moonlight came through a few spaces left open by the leaves, but she couldn’t see the stars. Fearing the heathens who chased her possessed a special call that would make the horse stop, she dismounted slowly. Her bare feet protested at the feel of rocks, leaves and broken branches beneath them.

  She slapped the horse on the flank one final time ironically, sending the animal on its way now that she no longer rode him. Then she slowly crept into the dense forest, keeping close to the heavy foliage. The hilt of her dagger dug into her skin, she had such a grip on it.

  She didn’t know which way to go, or how she would get home. All she knew was that she needed to keep moving forward. Let the men follow the tracks of the horse. They wouldn’t know which direction she’d gone. She only had to worry about any other criminals lurking in the forest. Her bit her lip hard, drawing blood when her hair snagged on a branch, ripping from her scalp. In the darkness she tried to pull the limp pieces from the branches so as not to leave any clues, but she could see hardly anything. Her feet seared with pain at the cuts, and bruises on them. Her temple hurt where her captors had hit her, and her scalp stung from the hair that had been ripped out. All over she ached, and wished only to fall to the forest floor in a heap, cry, and hug herself to sleep. Perhaps death would be a welcome haven to the fear and pain she felt.

  No! Her mind shouted. Wiping the tears from her eyes, Chloe pushed forward. She would persevere. She had to.

  The men-at-arms tore threw the forest like wraiths bent on devouring the souls of heathens. The sun had begun to set, casting eerie shadows among the trees. The distant howls of wolves and screeches of bats would have sent many a man’s blood running cold. But not them.

  No, the only thing that would stop their mission was death. And they’d fight like hell to make sure it wasn’t their lives that succumbed. Peasants and vagabonds ran from the sight of the knights as they tore threw the lands.

  Sweat trickled from every pore of Alexander’s body, leaving his skin a slick sheen. His charger breathed heavily beneath him, but showed no signs of a struggle, only the opposite as if Hero knew they were dead set on a fight.

  Sir Brendan stopped suddenly, and the rest of the knights drew to a halt, Alexander pulling beside his faithful vassal.

  “Where?” he commanded of the peasant.

  “My lord, I saw them head into the trees just beyond this field,” the peasant panted.

  Alexander stared ahead at the dense foliage, and hoped the abductors had been stupid enough to set up their camp close by. They had traveled about three hours from Hardwyck, and Alexander knew if they were smart criminals, they would still be hours away. But he counted on them being quite stupid—after all, they had insulted the dragon.

  He motioned with his arms for the men to spread out, and they easily formed a parallel line from their leader.

  “Peasant, what is your name?” Alexander asked.

  “Douglas, my lord.”

  “Douglas, you have done a good deed for your mistress. When we locate her, you will be rewarded. You will stay with us to identify the men when they are spotted.”

  “Aye, my lord, with pleasure. Lady Chloe cured me when I was ill. I would do anything for her.”

  Alexander bit his tongue, for his reply would have been that, as his mistress the boy should do anything for her regardless. But he knew how much the people loved Chloe and he did not rebuke the lad, instead he nodded. Drawing his sword and pointing toward the trees, the men drew their horses forward for the steady march through the forest. Alexander whirled his sword in the air, directing his five fastest, slinkiest knights to edge ahead of them as lookouts.

  If anyone could spot someone or something amiss it was those five, Jared, Austin, Eugene, Everett and Lowell. A smile began to grow on his face as they marched on. He was glad he had such loyal men and that he’d trained all of his warriors hard and well. They were the elite warriors in all of England, and could march to war in complete silence, following hand signals, or answer to the secret bird calls that he himself had created. He had special units that could break from the group and complete tasks, while still maintaining contact and communication with the rest. He had a gut feeling they would find these wretches sooner, rather than later, and he couldn’t wait to tear them limb from limb.

  A bird call ahead indicated that one of his men had sighted something. Alexander edged ahead of the group and gave the signal for his men to slow down but be at the read
y.

  He nodded to Lowell when he saw him. The knight nodded back and then with his arms showed Alexander where to look. His gaze followed the direction. To the naked and untrained eye, not much could be seen, but to Alexander who had trained fiercely for years, he could make out from the brush and dirt on the ground that recent movement had been made through here. He dismounted and carefully examined the earth. Divots and grooves where indeed in the ground. From the space between the grooves he could discern that it had been from a wagon, just as Douglas indicated. The divots were made by horse hooves.

  Remounting his horse, he signaled to his men to turn in the direction the tracking was taking them, and onward they went. Again he heard the bird call, this time from Eugene.

  He pointed to his ear, and Alexander listened. He could hear shouts from men. They were distant, but close enough that if Alexander and his men could hear, then whoever made those shouts could likely hear them as well. Alexander held up his hands for the men to stop. He swirled his sword in the air and pointed forward. His five lookouts crept forward, and he kept pace with them, Edward at his side. The remaining men would wait for the signal and then come forward.

  As they gained on the shouts, Alexander could make out the distinct voices of three men. He signaled to his five companions to lay low and listen to the unknown men who spoke.

  “She’s around here somewhere. We’ll spread out and find her. If she gets away ‘tis your heads. Do you hear me?”

  “Aye, boss we ‘ear ye, but 'tis yer head too.”

  A loud smack could be heard. The men must be only twenty feet away.

  “The earl’ll take care of me, you vermin. Now find her, and I don’t care if you bring her back dead or alive, just find her.”

  At that, Alexander felt the blood boil within him. They were talking about Chloe. Edward placed a bracing hand on his shoulder, and Alexander realized he was about to burst in on the soon-to-be dead men.