Angie Arms - Flames series 04 (34 page)

Grace turned away and caught sight of Roland, who she recognized from barging into Cyrille’s room.  He watched Emma with a wistful smile, seeming to take in her every movement.  Grace had a yearning so strong for Cyrille to look at her with such open love
, it nearly knocked her down.  She turned quickly away and caught the Countess’s eye.  She stood with Jillian, and both their husbands.  She wondered if the men were aware of their wives’ love for them.  Probably not, men were complete idiots, she thought bitterly.  They easily talked among themselves, with Jillian staying true to form, and saying very little.  She envied the woman and her quiet reserve.  Halvor looked different today, more at ease with a slight upward twist to his lips.  Despite his size, he was the least intimidating of the men, now that the shock of his sister’s death was gone.  She did not see the coldness in the man who stood with them.  Lord Garrick was battle scarred, but she saw gentle warmth in his eyes each time he looked down at his wife.  Grace discovered she envied the Countess all the more.

Damien immerged from the corner of the Manor
, followed closely by Cyrille and two of his men.  Grace watched them, the way they carried themselves.  There was a time Cyrille walked with cockiness in his stride, with a superior air that mirrored his brother’s.  Now the way he carried himself was different.  Grace could best describe it as deadly.  He did not limp as badly, nor bend against the back pain.  He walked with his head up, his shoulders back, and with the hood covering his head Grace saw what he wanted them to see.  A man as strong as a tree, as unbreakable as a strong boulder, and as cold as a strong wind blowing from the north on a freezing winter day.  But she knew why he walked this way.  He saw himself as weak now, easily crushed.  She wished he and everyone could see him for the man he was.  Warm, intelligent, strong despite his injuries, and braver than anyone she would ever meet.

She followed them, through one gate, around the little dwellings for
the guards to give them respite from harsh conditions.  She must talk to Cyrille, one last time.  If he could see what she saw, she would be able to go away, maybe not happy, but feeling a little more at peace knowing there was some kind of future out there for him.

They moved past
the dwellings and further along the line between the two walls, intent on their conversation.  She did not hear the horse, until it thundered through the outer gate.  Until that moment she did not realize the gate stood open.  Perhaps, she would have waited with the others in the courtyard if she did, there was still the danger of Warner.  But she grew complacent here amongst these people, the threat nearly forgotten, until she turned and saw him barreling through the small dwellings toward her.  Several men flowed through the gates on foot.  Grace turned to run, casting a glance to Cyrille.  All the men turned, including Cyrille.  He took a step toward her, his hand already drawing his sword.  He was still fast, but not fast enough to stop the hands that came down and pulled her off her feet. 

She screamed and struggled
, but the hands were vices as she was slung over his lap and the horse turned.  She tried to wiggle, but one hand held her down, while the other guided the horse through the outer gate.  She felt the horse pick up its speed once they were on open ground.  It happened so fast her head was spinning, and she thought she would vomit, but the fear kept everything within her frozen.

Chapter 22

Scotts Manor

Alena’s heart beat thundered in her ears.  She hoped to find Marcus in the chamber he shared with Halvor and Garrick.  The arrangement left another chamber open to accommodate her, Ryann and Jillian.  She didn’t mind it so much, Jillian was quiet, and Ryann seemed to always be with Garrick, so it was as if the chamber was hers alone.  She was disappointed to find no one in the room.  She searched the manor, albeit sluggishly.  She didn’t know what she was supposed to do if she found him.  The thought terrified her.

By the time she reached the courtyard
, it was filled with what seemed the entire household, but no Marcus.  She moved toward the stable, an uneasy feeling settling on her.  She silently entered through the open doors, pausing to wait in the darkness for her eyes to adjust.  “Marcus?”

She hear
d him moving about before she saw him.  He stood on the other side of his horse, adjusting the saddle he just placed there. 

“I need to speak with you,” Alena said
, advancing to stand in the aisle where she was able to see him.  He said not a word, and refused to look at her.

“I don’t know how to do this, if I am even supposed to ask
, but I am going to anyway.  Will you sleep with me?”

Marcus’s hands stilled and he stood star
ing at the horse, his back to her.

“Garrick thought it would be a good idea if you did,” she hesitated
, because somehow when it was said out loud, it sounded awful.  “I mean we were talking…”

“Why does he call you Lena?” Marcus asked
, turning suddenly to stare at her.

“What?”

“Garrick.  I’ve noticed he calls you Lena.”

“I don’t know.”

“Does he have a claim on you?”

“What?”  Confusion raged inside her head.  She asked him such a personal question
, and he was asking her about Garrick.  “No.  He is my friend, that is all.”

Alena watched Marcus run his hand through his hair.  It was short enough to stand up in little spikes that
, for some reason, made her want to smile.  “It seems you are getting quite a few of those.”

“It would seem,” she said
, annoyed he was avoiding her question.  “What do you think?”

“What do I think?  I must admit I am not very thrilled that my lord has told you to bed me.”  Mar
cus stood in the aisle, his gray-blue eyes studying her.

“It’s not like that.  It is not to be just about mating.  I want you to touch me because you love me.  I want to know what that is like.”

Marcus looked annoyed at her.  “I am leaving,” Marcus said, turning back to his horse.

“Leavin
g?  When will you return?”

She heard him scoff
, then respond, “Never.”

“Why are you leaving?” Alena asked
, stepping toward him.

“Why would I stay?”  He walked around the front of the horse to work on the other side, her view of him now hindered by the large animal.

“Kinsey is your home.”

“Kinsey is Garrick’s.  I thought perhaps after I gave my life to Garrick he would return the favor
, but he is hell bent on driving me away, so I will grant him this one final wish.”

A yell came from the courtyard.  Marcus froze.  “To arms!”

Marcus was in motion, shoving past her as she turned to move toward the door.  Chaos was ensuing as they rounded the corner.  It was apparent the men of the Manor were outnumbered.

“Emma!” Roland fought fiercely nearby.  His swings were powerful and frantic, as he tried to fight his way forward.  Emma was on the other side of the courtyard, with the squires su
rrounding her, fighting a path toward the center of the courtyard.  Three men, one with a spear, another with a knife, and the third a club, fought desperately to bring Roland down, before his sword could cut into them.  Soldiers they were not.  The courtyard was filled with such men, fighting with any manor of weapons, but swords were scarce in their arsenal.  When Roland killed one, it seemed as if two took his place, and he was having no success moving toward Emma.

Marcus charged at one of the enemy who was too busy circling Roland to notice the
two just arrived from the stable.  Marcus cleanly ran the man through, his blow quick and deadly.  “Alena,” Marcus said, with the quiet command of control in his voice, despite what was happening around them.  He easily tossed the dead man’s sword in her direction, before motioning her toward one side of the manor as he moved toward the other.  Together they would be able to take down the men who were moving in to flank those fighting in the courtyard.  As long as the men could hold their own and not become surrounded, it could mean the difference between victory and death.

Emma
reached the middle of the courtyard and was continuing on, toward the wall.

The boys were not only fighting and protecting her
, but retrieving the arrows she was shooting from her bow as they moved along.  Alena was close enough to one of the men she took a swing, slicing through the back of his neck, nearly severing his head.  He fell and she moved on, her eyes going back to Emma.  There was purpose to her direction, Alena did not know what it was.  Everything was happening so quickly she nearly panicked as she slid her blade into a man’s side.  He fell as she spun away, moving slightly behind Emma now, helping the boys protect her as she moved, her arrows expertly embedding in the men who wore little, if any armor.  Anyone with a chest plate got an arrow in the head, otherwise she shot them in their hearts, and as they got close enough, a boy would run forward, pull the arrow out, and return it so Emma did not run out of arrows as they moved. 

They reached the other end of the courtyard and Alena though
t Emma would turn and move toward the continuing battle, but the boys parted, and the redhead hiked up her skirts, and raced up the wall’s steps. 

They took her.  Emma heard the story from Keri, what the other women went through with Warner, and how Grace played a key part in the rescue that saw the Countess Ryann to safety.  The first yell Emma heard was a warning, “He’s taken her!” followed quickly by “To arms!” as the intruders began to attack.  Emma noticed Grace followed after the men a few moments ago, and could only guess the man who grabbed her was Warner.  The men who fought she knew right off were not soldiers.  She grew up around rebels who fought in the back woods.  They were fighters who would never be able to hold their own in the open against real soldiers.  Though they were many in number, there was little chance they would be victorious here.  But they weren’t after the Manor, they were bought to keep everyone busy while Warner got away with Grace. 

Emma reached the stone wall and raised her bow.  They were already near the distance of her arrow.  She took an extra moment to track the fleeing horse
, before she let her arrow fly.  It hung in the air for eternity, before embedding itself in the man’s back.  He arched backward, then fell from the horse, taking Grace with him.  Both lay still and the yells below her brought her around to see the line of men at the gates, one of which was Grace’s Cyrille.  She shot three of the men they fought, with her three remaining arrows.  She cast a glance to the road and the horse who was taking the opportunity to flee, and the two figures that remained still.  The thought ran through Emma’s mind she killed Grace.  The horse was moving fast, the fall could have broken her neck.  She turned and fled along the wall, back to the bottom of the steps.  Some of the boys moved away, helping the men, but Alena took command of those remaining and helped them retrieve the arrows, as she took down man after man with her sword skill.

The closest boy held up three arrows.  Emma quickly took them, loading one
, and turning her aim toward the gate.  They moved quickly toward the opening.  The men of Scotts Manor were beginning to even the odds.  The poorly armed men had little chance, and within a moment the path to the gate was clear.  Emma threw the bow to one of the boys, hiked up her skirts, and ran toward the two figures still lying prone on the ground.  When she reached them it was to find Grace lying quietly beside Warner.  Warner’s eyes were open, staring off into nothing, his chest still, he was dead.  Grace on the other still breathed.  Her eyes were closed, but her chest was still rising and falling.  Emma bent to touch her hand, it was still warm.  She lifted it, tugging and shaking, to get her friend to come out of whatever held her unconscious. 

“Grace!” so much fear resided in the woman’s name as Cyrille stiffly knelt beside them.  He reached a hand out to touch her face, it shook as he touched her with such sweet gentleness Emma wondered if the other woman could feel it.  “Grace.”

Then Roland was there, his arm slipping around her as she knelt, wondering what to do.  She did not have to turn to know it was him, she just knew. 

“Let’s get her back to the Manor,” Roland said
, reaching for her. 

Cyrille
nearly growled as he blocked the man’s arms, and leaning forward, gathered Grace in his arms, and stood with her.  The effort was a painful one for him, Emma and Roland both saw this, but they knew there would be no reasoning with the man where Grace was concerned.

The courtyard was eerily quiet when they returned.  Bodies lay about and she could smell their blood.  Emma turned away and followed closely behind Cyrille
, with Roland at her side.  Emma felt like protesting when Cyrille passed the other chambers to take her to his.  It was farther from everything, making the care of her all that more difficult, but she didn’t dare mention it. 

He laid her upon his bed stiffly, his body not moving fluidly as someone else might
, but he accomplished the task.  “I need water,” Emma said, moving forward.  Her aim was to place herself between Cyrille and Grace, so she could tend to her, but Cyrille refused to budge.

“Bring it to me,” he said, as he stared down at her through the one slit in his hood
. Emma knew without a doubt he was not a man to be disobeyed.  She turned away with Roland dogging her steps, as she left the chamber.

Many of Damien’s men were alerted to the attack, and though they were too late for defending the Manor, they were in time to help with the removal of the bodies.  Despite the extra hands, the task of removing the bodies for burning outside the walls took all afternoon, and the sun was beginning to slip over the horizon by the time the torches lit the fuel stacked beneath them.  Marcus’s opportunity to leave disappeared, and he had no choice but to wait until the following morning.  He wasn’t happy about that, and as everyone gathered for a late meal, he considered skipping it, but his stomach protested at the thought.

“How is Grace?” Keri asked
, as Emma and Roland entered the room behind him. 

“I do not know.  Cyrille will let no one else near her.  She still breaths, that is all I know,” Emma replied
, taking her seat.

Marcus slid into his and looked at the faces around him.  Alena was missing
, along with Cyrille and Grace.  His eyes landed on Garrick, who returned the gaze.  Marcus wanted to put his fist into the man’s face, because he gave no indication of what he was thinking.  His black eyes were their usual cold orbs, and his face was chiseled from granite. 

“Where’s Lena?” Garrick finally asked.

“How am I supposed to know?” Marcus responded with irritation.  “I’m not her keeper.”

“
I had something to say and I hoped she would be here.”

Marcus shrugged his indifference
, as he took a bite of his food, trying to ignore Garrick as his irritation increased.

“The Countess and I will be leaving Scotts Manor in the morning,” Garrick announced
, as he stood on his feet, commanding everyone’s attention.  “We will not be returning to Kinsey, but making our home at Kilkenny.”  All eyes watched Garrick, but no one spoke.  “Ryann misses her home and the comforts there.  I feel it is the least I can do now that she carries my child.”  Garrick’s face transformed before Marcus, and despite the many years of knowing him, and calling him friend as well as lord, never did he see the proud triumph light his face as it was now.

“That is wonderful,” Keri said
, standing to move to her friend’s side and hugging Ryann.  Congratulations went up around the room.  There was a time Marcus would be thrilled for Garrick, but there seemed to be a seed of bitterness growing within him. 

“I have told no one this, other than my wife,
” Garrick began, his eyes falling on Marcus, pinning him to his chair.   “When the messenger’s came from the King, I sent a petition to him seeking to turn Kinsey keep and all its land back over to the Kinsey family.  I also asked that he return the title of Lord of Kinsey to Marcus as well.  The title served me well, as did the man who bore it before me, and it is the least I can do to return it to my loyal friend.”

Marcus could not swallow, Garrick’s gaze would not allow it.  The
food lodged in his throat, along with a thousand thoughts.  It was a strange feeling, the bitterness and anger directed at Garrick was shedding from him as he thought of what Garrick was saying.  The messengers left while Garrick was still in his throws of anger.  No wonder the man’s reaction was so disconcerting, and threw Marcus into the chaotic confusion within his own mind.  It was unlike Garrick to hold his emotions out for all to see, whether it was love or hate, he kept it well hidden.  To suddenly become otherwise, was more frightening than anything Marcus experienced with the man.  And he realized it was Garrick’s punishment for leaving him out of the loop with Ryann’s kidnapping.  It wasn’t a dismissal, but a cold shoulder to protect Marcus’s life, he now thought, because if Garrick was truly as angered as he acted, nothing would stop the man’s blade from cutting him down.