Page 18 of Knight of Darkness
He supposed taking care of the business of seeing to a burial should take priority over everything else. Afterwards, he would drown himself in drink to stop himself from thinking too long on a fair-haired lady with sparkling aquamarine eyes. Just thinking of the lady caused his heart to lurch in his chest.God’s Bones!Had she somehow already weaseled her way into his heart? He raised his hand and saw his fingers tremble just from recalling his brief time with the woman. How would it feel to trace that porcelain skin? To wrap his arms around her waist and bring her into his muscled chest? To feel her naked skin up against his own?
Wymar inwardly cursed as his mind wandered from where he should be concentrating. He must find a priest first, and then see to his men. Thoughts of Lady Ceridwen could wait until far into the evening hours, when he would be alone.
*
Far into thenight Sperling traveled, racing his horse as though the devil himself was fast on his heels. He was not certain such was not the case. He was still stunned the battle had not gone in favor of his king. And for His Majesty to be captured!God’s Bloodwho would have thought such a thing was possible.
His thoughts momentarily went to Ceridwen. As soon as the battle had ended, he had attempted to take her in hand. King Stephen had been captured, but surely he wouldn’t remain that way for long. In the meantime, Sperling still intended to see his plan through. He had thought by threatening to expose Ceridwen to the men and the Empress that this would have the desired outcome… the lady coming with him willingly. Had she done so, it would have ensured he’d be able to take Norwich easily, with the lord’s daughter in tow. Her defiance rattled Sperling causing him to lose his temper. That, he was forced to admit, had been foolish of him. She had a lifetime of being spoiled and indulged. As a result, she would respond with a tantrum whenever anyone attempted to show their rightful authority over her. She was too headstrong for her own good, but he vowed she would come to him even if he must force her hand!
All of this was more difficult than he had anticipated. Instead of Ceridwen by his side as he carried out his king’s commands, Sperling would have to use more drastic means to achieve his ends. But he would not falter in his purpose, nor in his commitment. Ceridwen would be his, as would Norwich. The rightful king would end up back on the throne where he belonged, and Sperling would reap the benefits of his loyalty. Such was surely the will of the heavens—and Sperling would see it carried out. With a fair number of the king’s men traveling with him, he had no reason to not believe he would soon be lord of the keep. He would then earn his king’s favor and have Ceridwen in his bed as his wife, whether she liked it or not.
Chapter Ten
Ceridwen was restlessafter a nightmare that would not allow her to return to sleep. ’Twas hours ago that camp life had at last settled down from a night of merrymaking. After Norwood had left, she had sent a dispatch out with Thomas to ensure all her men were accounted for. She had learned, unfortunately, that several had lost their lives and only a few remained of those who originally traveled with her.
She had willingly pulled out several coins and tossed them to Thomas, asking him to see to their burial needs and for a priest to bless their graves. They deserved as much in recompense for their years of loyalty to her and her family.
Such loyalty could not be claimed by that worthless cur Sperling who was apparently last seen riding out with any number of men from Stephen’s army. Traitors, each and every one of them. Deserters who deserved to be stretched from a rack and their entrails scattered to the four corners of the earth. She shuddered with thoughts that the same could have been declared in her case had the battle gone in the opposite direction. Thankfully, they had claimed victory for the Empress and but awaited word on the direction she wished to travel.
She pulled a feather from her pillow that had been sticking her in the face for at least the past hour. The nightmare she had experienced had rattled her head with worry for her father. She knew she should not pay too much attention to a dream, but the vision had felt so real, so terrifying, that Ceridwen had awoken with a racing heart. How could she not when the dream had shown her standing over her father’s grave? The sound of his ghost taunting her that she had failed him echoed in her mind until she let out a low growl of frustration. ’Twas not true! Her father yet lived. She would be reunited with him soon, and all would be well. Yet somehow, she could not seem to convince her speeding heart to calm.
Frustrated that she could not return to sleep, she tossed off the coverlet and began pulling on her boots. She slept in her hose and tunic, which left her covered enough to be seen outside. Perchance a brief walk amongst the stars would settle her soul enough for her to claim a few hours of sleep before the dawn.
Ceridwen grabbed her cape and pulled the garment over her head. On silent feet, she crept toward the entryway of her tent. Carefully, she stepped over Arthur’s vigilant guarding. She had just gone to lift her other foot when he made a grab at her ankle, almost causing her to fall atop him. A gasp escaped her when he would not release her foot.
“Where do you go at this hour, my lady?” he said as though he, too, had been fully awake all the time she had attempted to remain quiet.
“I had a bad dream, and I cannot sleep so decided on a brief walk around the camp to clear my head. I shall return shortly.”
“’Tis not wise you should do so unguarded, given you decided to show yourself to all the men. They will be watching for you.”
Ceridwen let out a frustrated huff. She knew that a walk was not wise… and yet she felt so anxious that she did not think she could settle without some fresh air to brush the remnants of the dream away. “Arthur, do not overreact. The men have all fallen into a stupor and will be nursing a sore head come the morn. No one will notice but onemantaking a walk to clear his head.”
“Do not be so sure your identity is not now the talk of the entire camp. Wait but a moment for me to get my boots on and I shall accompany you. ’Twill put my soul at ease that you are safe.”
She bent down and removed his hand from her ankle. If Arthur accompanied her, he would want to know about the dream that had her in such turmoil. The thought of sharing the dreadful words said by the ghost in her nightmare made her stomach wrench. Besides, now that she was awake and moving about, she became aware of a physical situation that needed to be seen to sooner rather than later. “There is no need. I will be gone but a few moments. Rest,” she said giving his arm a pat, “I shall not be long.”
Not waiting for a reply, she left her tent and began making her way around the outskirts of the tents and toward the trees. A few moments of privacy to take care of her personal business and out of earshot of all the men would be a welcome relief.
She paused but a moment before she plunged herself into the darkness of the forest. Not seeing anyone that may come upon her, she quickly scooted behind a large oak and took care of her needs. Having time to oneself had not been a luxury in so long that Ceridwen began to wonder if she would ever be so carefree again. Images of her dressed in her finest gowns and jewels seemed at the very least two lifetimes ago. If Sperling was not lurking in the shadows of her keep hoping for an alliance between their families, she just might wish to be home instead of traipsing about the countryside dressed as a knight, even if her cause was righteous.
With the sounds of a nearby babbling brook, she adjusted her clothing and thought she could refresh herself further with a few splashes of water to her face. Mayhap that would allow the nightmarish scenes to leave her head. She was so distracted from the ghoulish vision of her dead father that she missed the hole in front of her and her boot became stuck. As she struggled to release her foot, the sound of footsteps came closer. She was such a fool to become so distracted—she had not noticed their approach until they were nearly upon her. Two mercenaries walked out from behind the trees and stood there licking their lips. She reached for her sword only to realize that in her eagerness to leave her tent, she had foolishly left her blade behind.Imbecile!
“She does not look very prepared for battle now, does she, Martin?” one said to the other.
“Nay,” Martin said with a laugh and rubbing his meaty fists together. “I would say ’tis a vast improvement over what she used to look like. Come here, sweeting, and give us a kiss.”
Ceridwen yanked hard on her leg and her boot finally came free. She looked about her for some form of weapon knowing she would quickly be overcome if they decided to come at her together. They began to move as if they had read her thoughts. The closer they came, the further Ceridwen backed away. She would not give them the opportunity to accost her by closing in around her and cutting off her escape.
“My captain will be looking for me. You best leave now whilst you can do so in one piece,” she ordered. Reaching for a stick she found upon the ground, she waved the makeshift weapon in front of her only causing the men to laugh at her antics.
“You think a measly piece of wood will stop us from taking you right here?” the one called Martin replied with a jeer upon his lips.
“Go ahead and try it, you miserable whoreson,” Ceridwen shouted back.
“We like them feisty, do we not, Martin?”
“Aye, that we do, John. The more they squirm the bet—” His words were cut off when Ceridwen slashed forward with the stick causing a large scratch to run the length of Martin’s face. There was just enough blood for him to howl in outrage.
