Angie Arms - Flames series 04 (19 page)

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Authors: The Strongest Flames

BOOK: Angie Arms - Flames series 04
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“Can you stand?” Halvor asked
, reaching down for Garrick.  He nodded to the girl, to let her know it was okay for Halvor to come near.  He did not know what the big man would do to the child, if she tried to stand in his way.

“Help me up,” Garrick replied, feeling sure he could not
, but he did not want his commander to know this. 

Halvor bent down, and reaching his big hands out, took Garrick by his shoulders and lifted
him.  Garrick groaned, his body trying to sag, but Halvor had him.  His legs felt like a thousand pins drove through them, and they moved up his body into his back.  The place where the hilt of Damien’s sword landed, felt like it was on fire, and the pins went all the way to his fingertips. 

“Are you all right?” Halvor asked.

Garrick knew he was getting ready to let go, and despite knowing he could not stand alone, he nodded, and the big hands supporting him, released him.  His legs immediately buckled, and he found himself hitting the floor hard.  He heard Lilly exclaim, and say something.  He heard her take a step toward him, but Halvor did likewise, so she stopped.  Then big hands were lifting him again, this time not onto his feet.  Halvor lifted him, as if he was a mere child, and left the room with him.  Down the hallway he was carried, and into the first chamber, where the big man lay him gently on the soft mattress.  He felt the sigh escape him as his body sank into the soft folds, and then he allowed the darkness to take him without a fight.  Halvor was here, and would not let anything happen to him.  If the big man failed, he had the little girl to take up the sword on his behalf.

 

“I will kill him for you,” Keri told Damien, despite the fact Halvor stood in the room with them.  The big man returned and helped Keri get her husband moved to his bed, where his wounds could be treated. 

“No.  No killing will take place here today.  There is another option.  I will send word to the King I have taken Garrick prisoner.  That way Countess Ryann will be safe
, and I will have only the King’s army to worry about.” 

“Only the King’s army,” Keri grumbled
, dipping the cloth in the steaming water      brought to her. “You are foolish to think it can be done so easily.”

“There was a time you thought you could stand against the King’s army,” Damien said
, before the cloth was slapped down onto his injured thigh.  “Good God woman!” he exclaimed. 

By the time the wounds in his leg and side were treated and
sewn, sweat was covering Damien’s body, and he knew, had he not been lying in the bed, he would collapse.

Halvor returned to tell him Garrick was in agreement with his plan
, and Damien was hard pressed for a moment to remember what plan it was.  The big man told him he would be leaving in the morning, to bring Ryann to Scotts Manor, and the majority of the men Garrick left behind to protect her.  Damien was relieved because he knew he was in a precarious position unable to fight, but with Garrick’s commander within his walls, all it would take was a word for the big man to finish what the Bastard started.

 

“I am not happy with you wife,” Damien said the next morning, after regaining some strength from a sound night’s sleep.

“Do you think this surprises me?” she asked
, sitting his tray of food in his lap then helping him to sit up, adjusting the pillows at his back.

“You were supposed to leave here.”

“And I did,” she argued, and he could not stop the small smile, but he quickly suppressed it before she saw.

“You know you were not supposed to come back,” he said
, making his voice angry.

“And had I not you would have been left to bleed to death.”

“Someone would have come eventually,” he said, not sure why he was even arguing with her.

“Eventually, after you
bled out into the floor.”  Finished with the pillows, she took a seat on the edge of the bed.

“Are you going to feed me now?” he asked with a smirk.

“No,” she replied gruffly, folding her hands in her lap and staring at him. 

He sighed as if it was going to kill him to lift the food to his mouth.  He fumbled with it for a moment.

“Oh here,” she said quickly, sliding closer and taking the food from him.  She lifted it to his mouth, and he laughed heartily, leaving her scowling at him.  Yet, still she fed him.

“Who is the girl?” Keri asked after a moment.

Damien shrugged and wished he hadn’t, when the muscles in his side protested.  “Her mother sold her to Garrick.”

“Garrick?” Keri asked.

Damien nodded, “The Bastard himself.”

“She trusts him.  We tried to get her to leave so she could have some breakfast
, but she won’t leave his side.”

“Who would have thought?” Damien asked
, trying to get used to the idea himself.

“Who would have thought he would come here to kill you?”

“Me.”

“You knew the King might send him?” Keri asked
, pausing with food halfway to his mouth.

“I thought it highly likely.  Be easier and a more likely outcome in the King’s favor.”

“What king would think that way?  He has a massive army at his disposal.  Why would he look to one man?”

“Because I have been the commander of his armies
, and I know they could not take me down.”

“My husband is conceited,” she said
, offering him more food.

“No, I’m just good,” he replied with a wink.  “Has Halvor left?”

“At first light.  He will be another day, he is going to check on his wife before collecting Ryann.”

“It is unfortunate that Marcus is away during this time.”

“He has returned with Alena, but left again with Roland.”

“With Roland?  But he’s my man.  Where did they go?”

“I don’t know.  That is just what Ryann told me.”

“Is Alena well?”

“I do not know.  Something happened between her and Marcus, and I did not see her while at Kinsey.  You have not asked about Garrick.”

“I will ask about him once I stop feeling his blade slicing into me.”

“He is complaining of back pain and tingling in his arms and legs, but he walked about his chamber this morning, so I think he will mend as you will.”

“That is unfortunate.”

“You are just being grumpy, you like Garrick.”

“According to who?” Damien asked
, waving any more food away.

“Me, or you would
let me kill him and you would not offer he and Ryann protection here.”

“The only reason I have offered them a place is because Garrick is a hell of a fighting man
, and we need him on our side.”

Keri stood with the tray in her hand.  “I don’t believe you.  Garrick is your friend, you are just too stubborn to admit it right now.”

“My side sure doesn’t feel as if it was touched by a friend,” Damien grumbled, and his wife left the room laughing at him.

Chapter 11

Hawknest

 

His chest ached and the cold drizzle made it even more difficult to b
reath.  Halvor stumbled over a rock in the increasing darkness, and fell with a grunt.  Quickly he climbed back to his feet and ran on.  He did not remember the pool being so far, but he wasn’t frantic the last time he was there.  When he arrived back at Hawknest he was decidedly happy to be returning to his home, and looking forward to seeing his wife.  When he found she was gone all day he grew concerned, because it was not a sunny day, but one drenched with a chilling rain.  He waited for nearly an hour for her to return, but as the sun left the sky and darkness began to blanket the land, he knew in his gut something was wrong.

When one of his men returned from the village after his search confirm
ed there was no one who saw her today, he knew of only one other place she could be. 

“Jillian!” he called out as he neared the place in the stream.

“Halvor,” her voice replied.  It didn’t sound right, it sounded strained, weak.

“Jillian,” he called again
, as he crashed into the clearing where they sat together not long ago, skipping rocks.

“Halvor,” he turned toward her voice
, and saw her outline against a tree.  He moved quickly to her, sinking down in front of her.  Her clothes were soaked, her hair dripped water from its ends, and it ran off the end of her nose.  She was shaking, but before he could question her, she screamed, a blood curdling scream, that ended in a weak moan as she laid her head back against the tree.

“How long have you been here?” he asked
, touching her knees.  They were bare, her skirt pulled up around her waist, and very cold.  He pulled his cloak from around his shoulders, and laid it across her, but it too was drenched by the freezing rain, and offered very little to her in the way of warmth.

“Since morning,” she said
, between clinched teeth.

“I’m taking you home,” he said decisively
, reaching for her.  He placed one hand at her back, another under her legs, and began to lift her.  She moaned an agonizing sound, so he stopped, and sat back on his heels. 

“I’m scared,” she said
, between her chattering teeth. 

“I know my love
,” he said, in an effort to sooth her.  He pushed a piece of hair behind her ear, and realized her face was muddy along with her hair.  “I have to get you back to Hawknest.”

“I can’t,” Jillian said, weakly trying to push his hands away.

He cupped her face with both his hands, and brought his face down to hers.  “You can Jillian.  You are strong.”

A giant shiver ran through her
, and a soft moan escaped, before her body went limp and her eyes fluttered closed.  Fear shook him to his toes. 

“You can’t stay out here.  This could take days.”

“Nooooo,” she crooned, her eyes opening again.  “I can’t,” and her brown eyes pleaded with him to stop her pain.

“If I could make it stop I would,” he said
, giving her face a gentle squeeze.  “The only way I can help you is to get you home.”  There was no hesitation between his next words and actions.  “So we are going now.”  He moved quickly to her side and scooped her up.  She gasped and then her body was limp.  She was so cold, he felt as if he carried a corpse.  He moved quickly back through the forest.  His progress was slower and he had to stop twice when Jillian’s body contorted.  After two stops he decided he could not afford the time wasted, so held her tighter when she thrashed, but kept a steady pace toward home.

The lights of the old keep came into view, the orange glow of the torches a welcoming sight after the nightmare of the dark
, with Jillian’s cold body clutched to him. 

“Guards!” he yelled at the top of his voice.  “Guards!”

“Sir Halvor?” he heard the return call.

“Get Hildred!”

Within moments Halvor was surrounded, and many hands reached to take Jillian from him, but he would not release her.  Despite he felt close to collapse, his chest ached, and his breath felt caught in his throat, he would not relinquish her.  He heard Hildred calling orders and a group followed them all the way to Jillian’s chamber.  As he was laying her down, hands were coming out to pull the wet cloak from her, then her clothes.  Immediately she was covered by a large blanket.  Halvor was pushed back out of the way, and he looked up to see the room was empty, save for a handful of women bustling about. 

“Get into dry clothes or it will be the death of you,” Hildred admonished
, turning away from him to give her full attention to Jillian.

Halvor knew she was in the best hands possible
, so he left.  He went about the process of putting on dry clothes, but he felt as if he was just going through the motions, his mind remained locked on the woman who was so cold when he laid her down.  He went to the little hall and sat at one of the tables, staring at the flames in the hearth.  The hall was small enough it chased the chill away.  He would have to see about tapestries to cover the walls.  The ones Ryann hung at Kinsey made a world of difference in retaining the heat.  He wondered if Jillian could sew.  Ryann had a creative touch and a skill with the needle, and he found himself angry that he did not know if his wife could do such a thing. 

He stood and went to the entrance, stepping into the small alcove that gave the entryway cover from blowing wind and rains.  The drizzle conti
nued, a steady flow of icy rain.  If the temperature dropped anymore, there would be snow.  A shiver ran up his spine, she was so cold.  Halvor turned and went back into the hall, taking a seat near the warmth of the fire.  Most of the keep already found their beds, only those seeing to Jillian stirred, so he had blissful solitude to think, because at the moment he felt that was what he needed to do most. 

He was a logical man, he had to be
, in order to see the whole of a situation.  He was also practical, there was no sense in using 100 soldiers, when 50 would triumph.  Yet, there was no logical or practical purpose in his deeds tonight.  He should have run back to the keep and gotten a horse and cart.  The forest wasn’t too dense to allow passage most of the way.  Yet, he stayed with her, and carried her all the way.  The cart probably would be just as quick, but he couldn’t leave her.  There was no logical reason to it, other than he just couldn’t leave her.  The same was true when he reached the keep, he could hand her over to those not too exhausted to walk one more step.  Yet, he forced himself to walk those extra steps to place her in her bed himself. 
What practical purpose did that serve?
  The agonizing truth was, he thought of none of it.  His organizational way of thinking fled in that moment.

He moved from that thought to another.  Before a battle he would prepare himself by thinking about all he was feeling, and why he was feeling it.  Such as anger, did he dislike his enemy so much it brought anger on a
nd why did he hate them so much?  Then, he would not find himself blinded by his anger and making foolish decisions.  Was he apprehensive?  If he felt apprehension, that meant he knew they faced a strong army, so then he would think of what made them strong, and he could seek to weaken that strength.  Was he eager?  Going into battle eager made him realize he was confident in his army’s superiority and might make him complacent, and again make foolish mistakes.  Now he found it difficult to choose one emotion as more dominant over another.

He was apprehensive, perhaps it was because he did not like for t
he woman to be in pain.  He spent a great deal of time thinking of a way to ensure Jillian did not suffer at the hands of another man such as Bruce.  It would stand to reason, pain he could not stop, would make him feel such a thing.

Time ticked by slowly, at least it seemed slowly.  It felt as if he was going mad inside his own mind with each beat of his heart counting down the seconds into minutes
, until it felt as if hours marched past, and his heart ended up beating franticly until his chest ached.  Such a thing was far from eagerness.  He recognized it for what it was.  When did Jillian become such a part in his life that her plight brought forth his fear?  His sisters made him feel it many times, but he never knew true fear for anyone except them, until now.  Jillian was just supposed to be a wife, not even a true wife.  Only a woman that fell under his protection, and by carrying the name wife, no man could ever touch her again.  He never thought he would have an emotional attachment to her.  Yet, how could he not?  He spent a great deal of time over the years thinking of her.  Wondering why he would leave her there.  He would kill Bruce if it was one of his sisters.

Had he built Jillian up in his mind?  H
e could still picture her as the innocent she was that first night.  He remembered her vulnerable frailness when he took her back to her room.  That same woman was so cold in his arms and that was why he was afraid.  He hoped for Bruce’s death for years.  Did he not have Garrick’s army to command, it might have been a strong enough desire, he might have carried out on his own.  Hadn’t he known since he laid her in her bed, the bruises already showing, he would one day find a way to make it up to her?  Had hoped for an opportunity.  Some men found love weak, if they believed in its existence at all.  He commanded an army for one of those men.  But Halvor’s sisters taught him the day they were born, there was love, and it was a most splendid thing.  Now, as he thought about his wife lying up there in the bed, so cold, in so much pain, it was not a terrifying thought that he must love her.  It was enough to shoot him to his feet and back to stand outside her chamber. 

He heard her, her weak voice, the moans and groans as she tried to push the baby out of herself.  Now came the anger.  If Bruce was here now he would plant a fist in the middle of his face and crack his skull open for the pain his seed was causing her.  What would it be like to raise Bruce’s child?  The thought made Halvor shrug.  It would not be much different than raising his own.  It would be a part of Jillian, he may not feel a special bond with him or her
, as he thought he might with his own, but it would be an innocent child.  He could be no different to the child than he would be any other.

She screamed a long guttural scream
, and Hildred’s frantic voice told her “again,” over and over.  A sob came from Jillian, and Halvor could stand it no more.  He flung the door open and entered the women’s sanctuary.  All the way to the bed, despite the gasps and chilling looks he received. 

“Come on Jillian push,” Hildred said
, not missing a beat, as if men walked into birthing rooms all the time. 

Jillian’s face turned red as she pushed again, her teeth clamped tightly together.  Chaos suddenly reined in the room.  Jillian fell backward, her eyes closing and her face went deathly pale.  Hildred lifted a baby
, while another woman severed the cord that tied it to its mother.  She turned it upside down and spanked its bottom, but the child made no sound. 

“Halvor?” Jillian’s weak voice came from beside him.

He turned to her, and kneeling on the floor next to her, pushed her hair from her sweaty face.  “It’s over now my love.”

“The baby?” she asked
, and he heard such uncertainty in her voice he wanted to protect her from that question, for there were no cries filling the room. 

He looked to Hildred
, whose back was to him, as she bent over the lifeless form in her hands.  It was several minutes before she handed the baby to another, and turned back to them. 

“I’m sorry Jillian.  He was pale when he came out, he just wouldn’t breath.”

Halvor grabbed Jillian’s hand, and he watched the tears form in her eyes.  “I did not think I would care,” she whispered, as sobs began.  “But I do.  I carried him a long time.  He was part of me and now he’s just gone.”  Halvor leaned forward and pulled his wife into his arms, and gave her a place to cry on his shoulder.  She fell asleep there, and he finally lay her gently back on her pillows and covered her.  Perhaps after rest, she would feel strong enough to face the loss.

 

Jillian watched Halvor’s chest rise and fall as he slept in the chair next to her bed.  He was with her all night as she dozed on and off.  She remembered breakfast was brought, and she barely ate it before she slept again.  Now, with the clouds outside snuffing out the light of the sun Halvor slept, and Jillian found she was content to watch him.  His face was lax with a peaceful tilt to his lips.  Occasionally, a small snore would escape him, but otherwise he remained quiet.    

 

It was a cold rainy morning when they buried the baby.  Jillian stood in the rain and sleet to watch his tiny body lowered into the ground.  She was surprised by her grief.  She put on a strong façade, and was hiding her grief admirably.  Now as the first shovel of dirt was thrown on top of him, her knees buckled.  She clasped her hands in front of her, and leaning over the grave, she tried to barter with God, using the soul of her son.  She swore she would love him and never resent him if only she could have her son.  Of course it was too late, Jillian knew it, but she could not stop the tears that streamed down her face and the hope she was wrong.

After a time she became aware of Halvor behind her.  When she felt his strong hands on her shoulders
, she became aware she was chilled, her clothing soaked by the rain that picked up, and was mixing with snow.  Once she was standing on her shaking legs, he stood next to her, his arm wrapped about her shoulder, holding her close.  The grave was finished and they watched as the men placed the little wooden cross at the head of it. 

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