Page 5 of Knight of Darkness
Sperling bit back a sharp retort. The woman had had him running errands like some squire doing the most menial of tasks. Meanwhile, she was inside drinking and eating her fill, not to mention being dry for the first time in days. He should have been here, too, enjoying a hot meal and a cold brew to quench his thirst. “Aye, Lord Elric,” he replied briskly using the name she went by publicly. “Everything you have asked for has been accomplished.”
“Good! Symond, move over and give Ratcliff room to sup with us. He has earned the privilege,” she proclaimed raising her chalice of wine in a silent salute.
Privilege? Damn the woman. Her blue-green eyes sparkled like jewels in her amusement and he knew full well she had been pleased to send him running about and debasing himself by fulfilling her commands. He reached for his dirk strapped to his side and stabbed at a piece of meat, thankful there was still something left for him to break his fast.
“Best be quick about satisfying your hunger, Ratcliff,” Arthur commented pointing to the remaining victuals. “We had just about given up you would join us and were getting ready to leave.”
“Have you any notion how fierce the storm is outside?” he grumbled tossing those before him a frown.
“Lucky for you there is still meat upon the table, Sperling,” Thomas mocked.
“Best eat up and enjoy the view of the serving wenches here whilst you can before Lord Elric sends you on another errand,” Symond chuckled.
“Cease your jesting with me,” he warned. “I have little patience for you or anyone else since I was the one running from one end of camp to the other seeking a place to pitch our tents. At least let me enjoy a few moments to eat in silence. I do not relish being the subject of yourwittyconversation.”
Ceridwen leaned forward with a smirk. “I am certain you found us adequate space else you would still be out in the night searching for one. Will I be pleased?”
Sperling swallowed hard, the meat sticking in his throat.God’s Bloodthis woman was beyond annoying. “Aye, I would not be here otherwise,” he answered with clenched teeth. He would not tell her they were as far away from the battlefield as he could put them. The morn was soon enough for her to learn the truth when the dawn appeared on the distant horizon. Their location would hopefully ensure that she would not be able to reach the front lines where the fighting would be fiercest. He knew she was eager to show off her devotion to the Empress, but he had no interest in allowing her the opportunity to fight at all if he could help it. His intention was to keep her far from the action so that she would survive uninjured. It wouldn’t do to lose his bride to some hulking brute’s blade on the battlefield before he had the chance to wed her. It was an added incentive that keeping her a distance from the fighting would stifle any possibility of her getting recognized for her swordsmanship. He wanted that glory as his own.
Not that she seemed to care one jot for his glory or for what he was owed. She spoke to him as if he was no more than a common knave. He would not stand for such a thing. Aye! He would have much to say to her once he got her alone but until then he would cease further speech with her. He would not allow any woman to humiliate him, especially one who would one day be his wife. She was clearly enjoying their banter all too much for his liking.
Sperling continued to gulp down his meal and barely had time to finish his ale before Thomas rose from the bench. “Let us away whilst we can make a quiet exit,” he said scanning the room for threats as the crowd became more rambunctious the more they drank.
Arthur stood as well. “It appears Ratcliff has had his fill. The dawn will greet us soon enough. Best get some sleep whilst we may. My lord…” he waved his arm in the direction of the door.
Ceridwen swung her leg over the bench. “Lead the way, Sir Arthur. Ratcliff can watch my back.”
Sperling hid a smirk as Arthur, Thomas, and Symond left the table and made their way out the door. Before Ceridwen followed them through the portal, he grabbed hold of her arm and gave it a mighty yank. A squeak escaped her that was far frommanly.
“A word, Ceridwen,” he hissed in her ear.
“Let go of my arm, Ratcliff, lest you are left with a nub,” she warned.
“You would not dare, my lady.” His words were meant to threaten her but she smiled as though they held no weight.
“Surely you do not wish to test me, sir.” Her free arm went to the sword swinging from her side.
Before she could pull the blade, he captured her other arm and gave her a shake. “Defy me all you want now but, once we are wed, you shall no longer be so free as to treat me like your lackey.” He gave her a shove and she bounced off the frame of the open portal. Her feet slipped out from under her from a pool of water the rain left in the entryway. Amusement filled the common room when she landed in an undignified heap at his feet. Even Sperling was surprised—and amused. She must have been caught off guard for she would normally hold her own against him. She raised her head to stare upon him with angry blue-green eyes.
Sperling smiled in satisfaction when she managed to kneel upon the floor. Ceridwen belonged beneath him, in more ways than one. One day soon she would be groveling for his affection and approval as she waited for him in his bed. She certainly had no place on the battlefield.
Arthur returned to the door. “Lord Elric,” he began.
“I am fine, Sir Arthur,” Ceridwen declared through clenched teeth.
Her chin rose definitely as she stared up from her position on the floor as though daring Ratcliff to have the audacity to touch her once more. The thought of being inferior to a mere woman infuriated him. He nudged her shoulder with his boot, just for the sake of putting her in her place. Her glare told him much when she reached for a knife she had hidden in her boot. She held the weapon before her.
“Here now! Leave the young lord alone,” a voice yelled out.
Sperling spun around to see who dared to interrupt his pleasure. A man strode rapidly across the floor with a determined stride. Two others followed close behind and, from their appearance, Sperling guessed them to be related. “What business is it of yours? Go back to your drink,” he ordered, not giving the men another thought. But ’twas a mistake to think they had enough sense to go back to their table.
’Twas clear this knight had no thoughts of heeding Sperling’s warning. He gave Sperling a shove as he passed by and offered his hand to help Ceridwen from the floor. She declined his help and stood on her own accord quickly adjusting her hood to cover her face. The man was a fool if he could not see for himself a woman stood before him instead of a young lord.
“Are you all right, sir?” the stranger asked casting a glance between the two of them.
“Aye, my thanks,” Ceridwen ground out before fleeing through the door.
The knight once more turned to face him. “You should not have pushed the young lord. Once was bad enough. The second was uncalled for. Do you serve him?”
