The Lethal Flame (Flame Series) (16 page)

Stepping into the stable his eyes adjusting to the darkness compared to the light of day Damien paused.  “How was your journey Garrick?” Damien asked moving toward the man with the magnificently white horse he had obtained from a dessert sheik. 

“The list is complete, not a stone left on top of another,” he said.  His deep voice held no sound of victory.  Not that Damien even considered for a moment the task he had sent the man on was a burden for him.  He had seen the man do far worse than even war allotted.  An image that made Damien shudder flashed before his eyes and he pushed it hastily away, his eyes darting from Garrick for the briefest of moments.  When he looked back Garrick was looking at him with his unreadable dark eyes, his face frozen in its stern countenance he had never seen break into a smile.

His black hair hung down to his shoulders, his skin was darker than most, so were his eyes, light enough to be brown but dark enough to be black.  Not as tall or as muscular as Damien, although by any stretch of the imagination was he small, the man was fast and deadly with his weapons and aim.  In practice or battle he had never seen a man who could best him, not even himself.

“Any prisoners?” Damien asked and had the desire for this man to say he had brought at least one with him. 

“None alive,” he said, turning back to the task of settling his horse. 

“Wasn’t that the point, no prisoners,” Marcus scoffed.  Damien nodded at Garrick’s right hand man.  That was a relationship he did not want to delve into for the first land Garrick fought to take had been Marcus’s who had fought alongside him.  Marcus was a good man though, he knew this from the time they spent in the Emir’s prison and watching him with the woman he had rescued when they escaped.

Uneasily he looked back to Garrick who eyed him openly and seemingly with the knowledge he had broken the rule. 

“Do we have further instructions?” Halvor asked.  He was the one to which Garrick trusted all the logistics of his battles.  No one could organize or see a hole in a plan as quickly as Halvor.   The man liked his life orderly, from sunup to sundown he tried to create sense out of chaos and Damien didn’t know  how but he seemed to make enough sense out of it to appease himself.  He was also the one to remember conversations, strategies and locations so of course he would remember exactly what Damien said about taking no prisoners.

“We are to hold here.”

“Did you just now take Haltwhistle?” Garrick asked. 

“No, it has been mine for a while.  We had some trouble but we will talk of all this later.”

“I hope you have some fair maidens to entertain us with,” Halvor said finishing his task first. 

“There are some of those,” Damien said but only one was on his mind. 

“Then lead the way Commander.  These two can find their way.”

Damien cast a glance at Garrick who had paused in his work and was studying him.  “Halvor is right, we will find our way,” he finally said at length.  Damien turned and had to hasten his stride to match Halvor’s. 

The hall was already filling with his soldiers and the villagers who served within the keep’s walls.  Halvor lagged now as he searched the room for the lady or ladies who would be warming his bed this night.  To the high table they strolled with Damien enjoying the camaraderie that was warming the hall with happy voices.  Ale was immediately brought to them as soon as they seated themselves and Halvor began charming the servants.   Women were like a moth to the flame with Halvor as they had once been with Cyrille.  Halvor seduced the lowliest peasants to the highest noblewomen and they all fawned over him.  Damien watched him smile to one woman after another.  The oldest child and only boy in a family with six girls the man knew women and could charm any woman he wished.  Roland joined Halvor halfway to the table and Damien wished whole heartedly the subject of Keri did not come up.  Everyone fell into companionable conversation with Damien only half listening as the rest of his mind was on how to tell the men of the Lady Keri.  He could not keep the secret.  He valued their loyalty nearly as much as he valued their friendship and it was not something he could keep from them without causing a rift.

The door opened again and Garrick entered with Cyrille slipping from his side and into the shadows.  Garrick seemed to not notice how everyone in the hall instinctively shrank from him.  The man had scars from deep gashes that had been sliced into his left cheek, one all the way to his neck that showed as clearly as Cyrille’s how close the man had come to death.  Only his left cheek had been marred by the blade and perhaps the man could even be considered handsome if not for the cold evil his very countenance seemed to exude.  The women were safe from Garrick, the man who had no charm.  He used his coin to talk for him and it was never to keep a woman, but only to pay a whore for one night.  There was no outward indication in his gate or on his face but Damien knew Cyrille had told him of his prisoner. 

He wasted no time in his cold assessment of the situation between Damien and Keri.  He settled in his seat, stretching his legs out before him and asked, “Do we all get a sample of this rebel that is so delicious you have broken your own command?”

All eyes shot between Damien and Garrick and the tension built around the table.  “She’s not a whore and would not be to your liking.”

Quiet fell over the table as Garrick watched Damien with his cold gaze.  “If she is not for the fucking why do you have her chained in your chamber and not hanging at the end of a rope?” Garrick’s question sounded too close to a challenge for Damien’s temper not to be sparked.  “Do you forget our task?”

“Do you forget your place?” Damien shot back.  Again silence fell over the table and the two men glared at one another.

“Tell me what my place is Sir Damien Le Forte,” Garrick responded in a cold, deadly voice his casual posture contradicted.

“Perhaps you can tell me what your place is here?” Damien replied.   “Why do you ride with us battle after battle when you have more wealth and land than any of us will ever have?  Why do you waste your time?  We know where you came from and what you have done to gain your place here.”

Garrick nodded, his lips flattening as if he was suppressing an emotion, “You think you know what I have done to earn my place here?  What could you possible know of it?” he asked with contempt for the higher position the commander had been born to.  “Tell me Sir Damien,” he nearly snarled emphasizing the title, “Why do you destroy when you clearly do not have the stomach for it?”

“Not here,” Halvor advised.

Their table had begun to get noticed and Damien nodded.  It was easy for rebellion to build when there was strife within.  “After the meal we will go to my chamber.  We have much to discuss,” he said allowing his gaze to fall on Garrick.  The man lifted an eyebrow but gave a slow nod.

Chapter 10

The door slammed open, banging against the wall.  Edwin had come in moments before, lighting sconces, building the fire up in the hearth.  He had warned Keri that Damien’s men would be joining him there soon but was not prepared for the number of hulking figures that filed their way through the door behind Damien.  The look her captor cast her sent a chill up her spine but it was the second one who froze her heart.  The dark gaze that fell on her was intense and unwavering.  He made three steps toward her while Keri refused to look away and show herself for a coward as she looked into the dark bottomless pits.  He was the one to break eye contact to let his gaze trail downward, all the way to the tips of her toes which stuck out from beneath the blanket she clutched to her throat.  Back up and when his eyes locked with hers again she knew without a doubt if this man had come for Langley he would have killed her and her children. 

“I’ll buy her,” the man with the light brown hair said.  His hazel eyes looked warmly at her.  She only spared him a glance before looking back to The-dark-man who still studied her. 

“Why is she chained?” The-dark-man asked his eyes remaining on her as he stepped just outside her chain length. 

Damien hesitated and she could feel his eyes on her but she could not bring herself to pull hers from The-dark-man.  “We do not see eye to eye,” he finally replied.

“I’ll give you Malik for her,” The-dark-man said stepping forward to come to a stand directly in front of her.  He reached a hand up his eyes following it to touch her hair.  Fear made her knees want to buckle but instead drove her into action with the need to defend.  She flinched away and immediately his other hand came up to capture her.  His dagger unprotected she seized it from his belt and was raising it to wound him when a big hand seized her wrist so hard she dropped the knife before she was yanked away from The-dark-man.

“She’s not for sale,” Damien informed the group watching.  He shoved her none to gently into the corner then bent and picked up The-dark-man’s knife.  He handed it to its owner who studied her for another moment and she knew she was not safe with this man.  Finally, turning away, he moved to the table and sank into one of the chairs where the others had moved.  Damien took up the chair at the end of the table opposite Keri.  He cast a quick glance down the table to her before directing his gaze to The-dark-man.  “You ask me why I readily agreed to this cleansing of rebels for King Richard?” Damien asked.  “My service will be over at the end of this assignment.  But that’s not why I’m doing it,” he said directing his gaze to Cyrille who sat un-hooded next to him.  The man nodded and Damien’s eyes darted around the table before landing on her still standing in the corner.  “Richard holds not only Halvor’s sisters but our sister at Liberty as well.  She is 20 now, unwed and will be executed if we do not serve Richard as I served Henry.  I cannot allow her to be killed as he killed Roland’s wife.”

Her heart picked up its beat and thundered in her head.  Damien was easier to hate thinking he was evil, that he did the king’s service out of joy.  To know he did it to protect his sister made her feel sympathy and sadness for what the man was being forced to do.  She looked to Roland, the man with the disconcerting blue eyes that made her uneasy.  Richard had killed his wife, did that change him into the man he was now that sent chills up her spine.

“I will receive a titled bride when we have killed all the rebels,” The-dark-man declared as if the life of the women were of no consequence to him.  “So I must ask why this rebel is not dead.”

Damien and The-dark-man shared a look and then The-dark-man cursed, jumping to his feet, kicking his chair back with such force it crashed against the wall.  “I did exactly as ordered,” he said slamming a fist down on the table.  He paced around the table, glaring at her then moved toward the middle of the room with long and angry strides.  “Exactly as ordered and no one in those rebel holdings you sent me to are alive.  No one,” he screamed at Damien, pointing an accusing finger at her as he moved closer.  “No man, woman or child.” 

With a growl The-dark-man pulled his knife and lunged at her, grabbing her by the blanket he yanked her against him, one hand entwining in her hair and the other brought the knife to her throat.  “I want to know what is so special about her that she lives and all of mine had to die.”

Keri tried to pull away but his grip tightened on her hair and he lowered his face beside hers.  “Shhh,” he soothed and when she stilled his grip loosened slightly but kept her caged against his lean body. 

“Garrick, I order you not to harm her,” Damien said his deep voice sounded as if he still sat at the table.

“What if I’m done taking orders from you?”  His fist tightened in her hair and he yanked her head back and his mouth landed on hers.  This man was far more demanding than Damien and even Bryson.  She felt his teeth graze her lip, applying enough pressure to teeter on the edge of pain.  From his hand, to his lips there was nothing gentle in the way this man was going to take her.  Would Damien allow it she wondered fleetingly.  Then Garrick was raising his head and glaring over her shoulder.

“After all you have done you’re going to ruin your chance for your bride just so you can kill another person?”  Damien’s voice came from just behind her and she felt her body voluntarily respond.

Those dark eyes came down on her and his mouth moved to her ear.  His warm breath fanned over her ear just before he sucked the lobe into his mouth, his teeth grazing it before his tongue and breath assaulted her ear and involuntarily she felt herself lean into him with a gasp.  Immediately he stopped his attack and tried to settle her with another, “Shhh.”  She was appalled that his attention could bring a response from her, she was angry with herself, this man scarred her.  She had to be thankful she had not known the weakness of her own flesh while married to Bryson for she felt she would not have been faithful.  The promise of pleasure was beginning to intrigue her.

“You protect her over much,” Garrick’s deep voice was pitched low. 

“I protect her because I have claimed her as property of the crown,” Damien defended himself.

Garrick leaned away from her so he could look down on her face.  His one hand still locked in her hair he brought the other hand up still holding the knife and rubbed a thumb across her cheek and the bridge of her nose.  “Yes, I think Richard would find great pleasure between her legs.”  His eyes darted back to Damien.  “He does enjoy deflowering virgins.”

“She is not,” Damien said.  “She is the Lady Keri Adlam formerly of Langley.”

“So why do you not enrich your coiffures and sell her to me for the night?”

“Because she is not a whore and I think after what you have done you would not want to add rape to your sins.”  Garrick’s hands loosened and he shoved Keri away from him.

“Surely you didn’t bring us here to discuss why we are all here which we all already know,” the light haired man at the table said bringing the attention away from her.

Both Damien and Garrick moved away.  “We have another problem that has arisen,” Damien began pacing back and forth in front of the table.  “We came under siege.”

“Surely the rebels are not foolish enough to try to take this keep back?”

Damien shook his head.  “They came for the Lady Keri. Many believe her to be a witch.”  All eyes turned to her and she wondered what each one was thinking as they studied her.

“Why have you brought her here?”  Garrick asked looking between Cyrille and Damien, his temper more sedate now in the face of the new development.

Damien looked at Keri for a moment and she too was wondering what his answer would be.  He turned to Garrick before answering, “I could not follow my own orders.”

Garrick stood and walked back to her, stepping within her reach with both hands on his dagger and sword.  “What witchy things has she done?” Garrick asked of Damien but keeping his eyes on her.

“Nothing,” she spat at him.

“She is an enchantress,” Damien declared making her gasp.  “That is why I could not kill her then and why I cannot kill her now.  Her children still live as well”

“You can’t kill me because you’re a coward,” Keri said stepping angrily toward the table.  Garrick snaked a hand out and grabbed her by the arm yanking her backward against him.

“She is also willful and should be beaten,” Damien declared.

Keri opened her mouth to let loose some obscenities but Garrick’s hand tightened around her arm and he shushed her in the hushed manner near her ear as if he were trying to sooth an injured child.  “It is good that you did not kill her and her children.”  Keri turned and he gave her enough space to do so and she met his gaze as he looked down at her.  “It is not easy to kill a woman and her children.”  She saw it then, in his gaze, a man who was haunted by the things he had done.  It didn’t mean he wouldn’t do it again but it helped to know, like Damien, this man was only human.

Damien related the story of how the rumors had begun.  Silence filled the room afterward and all eyes turned to Keri again.  “What do you plan to do with her?” Garrick asked from his chair he had resumed during the telling of the story.

The grim Cyrille informed them the people of Haltwhistle were already talking about the chained witch.  It was then the light haired man pointed out nothing had to be decided tonight and they should return to their meals and the women below.  The men filed out one by one, each taking a long look at her before they went and finally she was left alone. 

~   ~   ~   ~

Keri heard Damien moving about the chamber, preparing for his day but she could not bring herself to turn over to look at him.  It was far too difficult.  What if he thought her a witch?  Why would it matter to her if he did?

Her first meal of the day was as unappetizing as the last meal had been the day before.  She had to get away.  She had to find her children and get as far away from these ignorant bunch of people she could.  It would be wise of her to give herself to Damien then he would lower his guard and she could make her escape.  The trick would be to get away quickly and find her children before Damien could recapture them.  It would be a daunting task but one she must resign herself to and make plans for.

Keri had the entire day to sit alone and think about her plan.  So long when the door slammed open she jumped to her feet and her knees immediately turned weak seeing Damien standing in the doorway.  She knew she desired the man, despite her battle with herself to make it otherwise.  This evening she had decided she would give herself to him and she did not like the anticipation hammering in her veins at the thought.  What if he doesn’t try, she wondered.  She had never enticed a man to her bed, how would she do that?  If he never saw her naked she would just throw the blanket off but he saw her naked along with everyone else at Haltwhistle.  The thought brought her anger to the surface to join with all the other emotions that were clamoring within her for attention.  Don’t be mad, she chastised herself knowing her anger would only create an argument not an intimate moment.

In her mind she saw Damien walking within her reach and was surprised at her urge just to go to him and fling her arms around his neck and demand he kiss her.  Demand he take her right there so she knew what mating with a real man would feel like.  What intimacy with a man she desired would be like.  She chastised herself not to lose her head.  She told herself she could do it but reminded herself again and again she could not get lost in his arms as she had the urge to each time he touched her.

Her thoughts fled when she realized he stood just inside the door staring at her as she stared at him.  She had an uneasy feeling he had read every thought in her head.  Good luck, she thought knowing her mind was making little to no sense at the moment.  She watched him turn and close the door quietly, his hand lingering on it for a moment as if he had an unpleasant topic on his mind.

Oh dear Lord, he’s going to burn me
, she thought in a panic. 
Will he burn me?  How could he after watching his brother nearly die that way?  Because you’re not his brother you idiot.  You are nothing to him.
 

He walked toward her, so tall, so damn handsome and that too brought on anger mingling with lust and she thought she might explode.  He came within her reach, came close to look down at her.  Studying her but not saying a word.  She felt uncomfortable and her skin felt like a thousand needles pricked her skin then sent jolts of lightning from her head to her toes. 
S
he nearly flung herself at him but his words brought her from her racing thoughts.

“Are you a witch?” 

He asked her just like that.  No one had asked her that question preferring to run with the gossip.  Why does he ask, what answers does he want she wondered.  What answer but the truth could she give him, her muddled mind screamed at her.

“No,” she replied calmly as if she did not have thoughts of throwing herself on this man and raping him.  She did not want to escape him.  She wanted him to free her and
wrap her in his arms and never let her go.  To bring her children home and they live happily ever after.  But those happily-ever-afters only existed in the fairy tales she told Waverly at night.  Here, in Sir Damien’s chamber at Haltwhistle she was his prisoner.  He was a knight with no land, no title and only the orders of a king to rule his life.  She was at his mercy.  If he wanted to bed her he would bed her and no one would stop him.  If he wanted to burn her as a witch, he would burn her, and no one would stop him.  Her mind screamed at her not to cry as the tears pricked the back of her eyes.