Chapter 2 #2
Roger smiled evilly. “Believe me, I intend to.” He licked his lips as he raked a lecherous look over her. “In more than one way.”
He attacked.
With the flair of a seasoned warrior, Callie parried his thrust. If the man wanted a fight, she was definitely the one to give it to him.
“Run, Jamie!” she said to her brother.
He didn’t go far before one of the other knights grabbed him.
Cursing her ill fortune, Callie engaged her enemy. She was one move away from disarming him, when a cold, familiar voice gave her pause.
“Drop your sword, milady.”
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the man from the stairs. Yet what stunned her most was the way the other knights reacted to his presence.
They actually shrank away from him.
Roger looked toward the black knight and sneered. “Stay out of this. ‘Tis no concern of yours.”
The black knight arched a brow. “Given how the lady just humiliated you with the fact she’s the better swordsman, I seriously doubt you want to test my steel.” He gave the man a goading stare. “Or do you?”
She saw the indecision on Roger’s face.
“Let it be, Roger,” one of the other knight’s said. “You know he’d love a chance to kill you with impunity.”
Roger nodded slowly, then lowered his sword and stalked off.
Callie turned to face the man who terrified the others. He stood as still as a statue and watched her with a guarded look that betrayed nothing as to his thoughts or mood. The light breeze stirred the tendrils of his black hair while he stared unblinkingly at her.
Aye, he was a deadly one to be sure. She doubted if old Red Cap himself would be more fierce to face.
She held her sword steady.
The Black Knight smiled coldly. “I see you know how to handle a man’s tool.”
Several of the men snickered.
Her face flushed bright red at his crude comment. “I don’t take kindly to your insults.”
“No insult intended, milady, I assure you. I admire a woman who can hold her own.”
She couldn’t tell if he was sincere or mocking. His body and tone gave her no indication.
“Now, drop the sword.”
“Nay,” she said firmly. “Not until me brother and I are free.”
“Milady?”Callie recognized the voice of the maid who had helped her with their disguises.
The lass stepped out of the shadow of the castle’s doorway to look at her.
“Do as his lordship says, milady. Please, I beg you. You’ve no idea who he is, but take me word for it.
The last thing ye be wanting to do is cross his lordship. ”
The Black Knight held his hand out. “The sword.”
For some unknown reason, she almost complied. But one look at Jamie and she knew she couldn’t cede their best chance. She took a step toward the Black Knight.
She angled her blade straight for his throat and to her amazement, he didn’t budge or flinch. He merely stared at her with those black, soulless eyes. Calm. Patient. Like an adder waiting for its prey to come close enough for it to strike.
She paused.
Then, before she could blink, he stepped forward with an amazing speed, caught the tip of the blade between his forearms, and flipped her sword out of her hands.
It arced high into the air, spinning as it fell.
He caught the hilt easily in his hand, then twirled it about once before burying the blade deep in the ground beside him.
His smile was even colder than before. “Didn’t your mother ever tell you not to tempt the devil unless you were willing to pay his fee?”
Callie’s fingers stung from the way the hilt had been torn from her grasp, but she said nothing. In truth, she didn’t know what to respond. All she knew was that he had defeated her. No one had ever disarmed her before.
And he hadn’t even drawn his own weapon. The humiliation of it stung her deeply.
“Now, what do you think we should do with this scamp?” the knight holding Jamie asked.
“A good whipping should suffice, followed by cleaning out a cesspit or two.”
“Nay!” she shouted, but they paid her no heed.
All the knights laughed except the Black Knight. His eyes blazed furiously at the others. “Release the boy,” he said with that same calm tone.
“Come now, my lord. Can we not have a bit of fun with him?”
He turned his fearsome obsidian stare to the knight who had spoken. “My idea of amusement is disemboweling those who contradict and annoy me. What say you that you and I have a bit of fun?”
The knight paled, then instantly released Jamie. Her brother ran to her side and balled his fists into the course material of her skirt.
“Did you see what he did?” Jamie asked in a loud whisper. “Aster would die to know you let an unarmed Sassenach take your sword away.”
“Sh,” Callie said softly, holding him to her side with one arm as she faced the Black Knight.
The man’s gaze never wavered. “I think ‘tis time you return to your room, milady.”
Callie lifted her chin in a worthless form of challenge. He knew as well as she did that he had bested her.
This time.
But next time, she would find a way to beat these Englishmen, and get the two of them home where they belonged.
Holding her head as high as she could, she turned and headed back toward the castle with Jamie still clutching her skirt.
The maid held the door open for her and actually flinched as the Black Knight drew near.
He followed them back up the stairs. And even worse than the strange hot and cold feeling running through her body was the way Jamie kept glancing back at the knight with worshipful awe showing clearly on his young face.
“Tell me,” Callie said over her shoulder as she neared the top of the stairs. “Why is everyone so afraid of you?”
For the first time, she heard just a hint of bitterness in the Black Knight’s voice. “Everyone fears the devil. Don’t you?”
Callie scoffed at his words. “You are a man, sir. Not the devil.”
“You think so?”
“I know so.”
“Truly?” His voice was edged by humor. “Are you a witch, then, to be on such familiar terms with the devil?”
Callie paused at the top of the stairs and whirled to face him, angered over such a question. People had been burned and hanged for less. No doubt these English would love to see her executed as a witch. “I am God-fearing.”
He stood so close to her, she could smell the warm, clean scent of his skin. Those black eyes seared her with their probing intensity and when he spoke, his tone was low. Lethal. “I am not.”
She trembled at that. For there was no doubt he meant it.
To her dismay, he reached out and touched her cheek.
The warmth of his hand surprised her, and it raised chills over her entire body as he traced one finger by her ear.
She couldn’t believe the tenderness of his touch, the way his fingers felt feather light against her skin.
It did the strangest things to her body.
Made her throb and ache with a need she’d never before encountered.
Then, he gently pushed back her veil to run his hand just along her hairline where she felt him crook his finger around one of her curls and pull it free of the linen.
His gaze narrowed on his hand, and one corner of his mouth curled in disgust.
“Red,” he said, his voice scarce more than a growl. “I should have known.”
“I beg your pardon?” Why would something as simple as her hair color elicit such a heated response from him when nothing else had?
A shuttered look came over him as he dropped his hand from her face and took a step back.
“Aelfa,” he said to the maid. “Take her to her room and see to it she stays there.”
“Aye, milord.” The maid dropped to a low curtsey.
Sin didn’t move until after he saw the Scotswoman enter her room.
You should have let her escape.
In truth, it had been his momentary intent. Only his loyalty to Henry had prevented it.
Well, that and the small fact that he knew he’d never have to marry her. Not even Henry possessed that much power or money.
Still...
Sin felt just a tiny stirring of regret as he recalled the way she had disarmed Roger.
The wench had spirit. He’d give her that much. But that kind of spirit before one’s enemies was more curse than virtue.
He should know.
Shaking his head at the dismal memories he refused to think about, he headed down the narrow corridor to his own room, which turned out to be next to hers.
Sin’s jaw ticced at Henry’s audacity. No wonder the man had become king. His tenacity would rival an ancient mule. Still, it was no match for Sin’s.
He opened the door to his room and moved toward the spartan bed by the window.
He spent a large amount of his time at Henry’s court and unlike the other courtiers who lived in Henry’s hall, he’d never cared how luxurious his bed was.
So long as it had a frame big enough to hold him and came with a blanket, it was enough for him.
As carefully as he could, Sin pulled his surcoat and mail hauberk from his body and draped them over the small trunk at the foot of his bed. Then, he inspected the damage her sword had wrought to his forearms.
Oblivious to the pain, Sin unlaced the sleeves of his padded aketon as he headed toward the washstand. After draping the aketon over a simple wooden chair, he poured water into the bowl and washed the blood from his forearms.
Reaching for a cloth, he heard a commotion outside in the hallway.
His wounds forgotten, Sin grabbed his sword from the bed and threw open the door.
Three of the royal guards were dragging the boy from the Scotswoman’s room while a fourth guard held the woman back. The boy wailed like a dying harpy and the woman fought like a feral cat.
“What goes here?” Sin demanded.
The guard closest to him blanched, then said hastily, “His Majesty wants the boy moved to another location.”
“Nay!” the Scotswoman snarled. “You’ll not take him from me for them to abuse. Haven’t you done enough to the lad?”
“Please!” the boy wailed as he kicked and fought against the knights so fiercely that one of his shoes was thrown off. “Don’t let them take me. I don’t want to be beaten or hit anymore.”
Anger welled inside Sin at the boy’s words.
The woman struggled even more furiously against the guard holding her. If she continued, she’d end up bruised and bloody. As would the boy.
“Release him,” Sin ordered.
Everyone froze at his words.
“Milord,” the guard holding the woman said, “we are acting on the king’s orders.”
Sin directed a cutting glare to the man who shrank back a full two steps. “Tell Henry I said it would fine.”
“And if she escapes with the boy?”
“I will take custody of them. Think you she’ll escape me?” Sin saw the indecision in the guard’s eyes as he weighed whose wrath he feared most- Sin’s or Henry’s.
In the end, the man released the boy who ran quickly to his sister.
“I will tell the king what you said.” The guard’s resentful words were weakened by a note of fear in his voice.
“Yea,” Sin said drily, “you do that.”
As the guards left, Callie looked up at the Black Knight who had saved her brother from being taken. His kindness to them was beyond measure.
It had been on her mind to thank him, but as her gaze darted over his body, she couldn’t speak.
Indeed, ‘twas all she could do not to gape.
His bare, tawny shoulders were as wide as they had appeared beneath his mail. His body was hard and well defined, the muscles flexing with every breath he took.
But what held her gaze captive were the numerous deep and angry scars crisscrossing the bare flesh. Never in her life had she seen such. She doubted if even a single inch of his torso was left undamaged. He looked as if he had survived untold battles and attacks. The sight wrenched her heart.
And it was then she saw his bleeding forearms. “You’re hurt.”
He glanced down at the blood. “So it appears.”
“Have you someone to tend it?”
“I have myself.”
He started back to his room, but Callie followed. “Would you like for me to send in my maid?”
“Nay,” he said in that emotionless tone as he paused in the doorway and glanced from her to Jamie, then back to her. He gave her a meaningful glare that was no doubt meant to intimidate her into cowering like the others.
Though it did send a tremor down her back, she was a long way from cowering. Much like he must have been, she’d been taught to let no man see her fear of him.
The knight stepped back. “My only wish is to be alone.”
“But your wounds—”
“Will heal,” he snapped.
Och, but the man was insufferable. Fine then, let him rot.
Callie turned about, retrieved Jamie from the hallway and returned to her room.
But she didn’t stay there. How could she? There was no doubt in her mind where the Black Knight had gotten his wounds.
Her.
Of course, he wouldn’t have been hurt had he not stopped her from escaping. Still, he had saved her and Jamie from the others. Whether she liked it or not, she owed him.
And Callie had never been one to remain indebted to anyone. Gathering her sewing kit and a small bag of herbs from her trunk, she ordered Jamie to stay with Aelfa, then opened the door.
Determined to owe him no more, she went to face the devil in his own lair. She only hoped he didn’t gobble her up.