Page 41 of Knight of Darkness
Wymar swore he lost consciousness several times before he was hoisted out of that pit. The rope that had been secured around him was taken off and several men began to carry him from the dungeon.
“Ceridwen… where is she?” he whispered, taking hold of Arthur’s arm with what little strength he had left.
A grunt came from Arthur. “Ceridwen knows how to take care of herself. You are free. That was her main concern.”
Freedom!Aye! He was free of that pit from hell. Wymar looked around at the men who had come to save him. He swore he gained strength see both his men and Ceridwen’s after his ordeal as they made their way through several passageways. He would look forward to the next victory once they in turn rescued Ceridwen.
*
This idea ofhers had been just as insane as Wymar’s had been. She had been positive that if she showed up at the keep, ’twould provide the distraction needed and give their men enough time to free Wymar. The hardest part for her had been to walk across the drawbridge and not look at the men who had served her father. She had almost lost her nerve when her sire’s sightless eyes stared upon her when she passed.
How could she have known the depths that Ratcliff would sink in order to own her? He had already claimed her land in the name of the usurper. Ratcliff’s plan to marry Ceridwen would ensure the remaining servants of the castle, the knights who guarded its walls, and the serfs who tilled the fields would fall into line with its new master. Her sacrifice of being captured was worth the outcome if Wymar would be set free. But Ratcliff had locked her in her bedchamber for the past three days without her seeing that Wymar yet lived. She was glad she had another plan in place and could only pray that her men were now underground making their way to Wymar. Or even better… that he had already been rescued.
Ordered to dress like the woman she was, a servant who had not been at Norwich previously had helped her change from her hose and tunic before she took the garments away. The woman had been the only person she had seen since that first brief encounter with Ratcliff. The isolation and not knowing what was going on around her would be her undoing. She had never been one to sit idly by with needle and thread and ’twas as though Ratcliff knew that locking her away in a room would drive her mad.
She took a look around the room and a sob tore at her throat knowing this had been the last place she had had a conversation with her sire. Memories of their speech together filled her head and she wondered if Ratcliff had thoroughly searched the room. He would have done all he could to remove anything in view that could be used as a weapon, but perchance something still remained. Did she dare hope…
She went over to a rounded window seat set in the castle wall and sat. Pushing aside one of the cushions, she began wiggling one of the stones and a smile of satisfaction lit her face when one came loose. The jingle of keys alerted her that someone was about to enter so she quickly reached inside the hideaway and pulled out her mother’s jeweled dagger. Thrusting the blade into her boot, she quickly replaced the cushion and pushed open the wooden shutter to appear occupied with the outside scenery. She had just taken an indifferent stance when the intruder entered.
“I have sent for a priest,” Ratcliff announced whilst he shut the door and locked it.
Ceridwen turned, her brow lifting at his words. “You agreed to allow me to see that Norwood still lived. If you expect me to hold up my end of the bargain by cooperating with your demands, then bring him to me.” Making such a vow to this scum had been no problem in Ceridwen’s mind. If her men were able to free Wymar, then she was one step closer to her own freedom. She cared not that he had called for a priest for she would never utter vows to this cur. However, she kept her guard up. If she knew nothing else about the man standing before her, she knew Ratcliff could not be trusted. She highly doubted he would keep his word to show Wymar to her.
He came forward, taking a lock of her hair and twisting its golden lengths around his fingers until she had no choice but to step closer as he continued winding her hair.
“And you also promised me a sampling of what you have to offer come our wedding night. Let us start with a kiss,” he urged grabbing her waist and bringing them chest-to-chest. His hand let go of her hair as he began to fondle her backside.
As he started to lean forward, Ceridwen turned her head aside and his lips fell to her cheek instead. “Bring Wymar to me so that I know you have not killed the man. Only then will there be reason to call a priest,” she let the lie fall from her lips.
“What is that bastard to you anyway? If your father yet lived, he would have never consented to you wedding a mercenary. He is not nobility and sells his sword arm to the highest bidder,” he spat.
She pulled away from his embrace but there was only so far she could go in a room where he held the key to her release. A smile cracked her lips. “Did you not hear the news? Mayhap you and your traitorous friends were too busy fleeing the battlefield after learning your false king had been captured.”
He grabbed her arm, yanking her closer. “Stephen is the rightful ruler.”
She smirked. “Even now, the Empress makes her way to London to be crowned Queen.”
“’Twill never happen,” he said dismissively. “Now what was that you were saying about other news?”
“First… Stephen even now most likely resides in the dungeon of Bristol Castle. He is the Empress’s prisoner. And even more importantly, Empress Matilda restoredLordWymar’s title along with his lands. He is more than worthy to become my husband. At least he did not choose to kill innocent people in order to win the day.”
“Bah! Any title restored to him by your so-called queen is worthless. In the end you will be mine…”
“…as long as Wymar yet lives. Otherwise, you may take this body, but I will never truly belong to you,” she said pulling her arm free. “And I willneverswear vows to you.”
A laugh escaped him. “Do you honestly think I care whether you willingly go to the altar or not? You are a mere woman and are mine for the taking. If such a title as being the lady of these lands means so little to you, I can easily make you my whore.”
“Show me Wymar is alive and I will submit to you,” she said hiding her shaking hands behind her. God, how would she ever allow Ratcliff to touch her after all that she had shared with Norwood? But she knew her conversation with Ratcliff was but a ploy to give her men more time to rescue the man she truly loved. She would never give herself to the traitor standing in front of her.
“Willingly? I find that hard to believe given our past together,” Ratcliff muttered but came to stand before her. “Swear it upon your very soul, Ceridwen.”
“Let go of me!”
“Swear it to me,” he urged.
“Aye. I swear it,” she growled out, knowing with all her heart that Wymar was already free. She struggled against Ratcliff as he once again pulled her roughly into his arms.
“You are not giving me any kind of proof you speak the truth when you recoil from my touch. If you are so eager to barter your freedom for his safety, submit to me by showing me with a kiss,” he said before lowering his head.
