Dragonblade Trilogy - 02 - Island of Glass (3 page)

BOOK: Dragonblade Trilogy - 02 - Island of Glass
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Her pretty face darkened. “I am
not going back,” she growled. “You cannot force me.”

“But.…”

“No!”

By this time, Lucius had come
upon his missing knights. Wondering what had befallen them, he set out to
discover for himself. He saw the lovely young woman, immediately recognizing
her. Being closer to the earl than the others, he had heard stories of the Lady
Aubrielle Grace and he had met her on a few occasions. He knew what a burden
she had been to her mother. Whatever she was doing out here, in the middle of
the wild country, could not be good. He did not relish the confrontation that
was undoubtedly to come.

“My lady,” he greeted her evenly.

Aubrielle looked at the captain
with little tolerance. “Ah, the fearless Captain le Cor,” she said with a hint
of sarcasm. “Three knights against one small lady? That hardly seems fair.”

“What are you doing out here, my
lady?”

She lifted a well-shaped eyebrow
defiantly. “As I have told your henchmen, it is none of your affair.”

Lucius scratched his chin. He
knew the earl would be angry if he simply left her out here, alone. He already
suspected they were well beyond the negotiating stage. He looked at Kenneth,
his nose bloodied, and sighed with resignation.

“Take her.”

Kenneth grabbed her again before
she could run. She screamed and yelled, struggling as Kenneth mounted his
charger with Everett’s assistance. At one point she tried to flip herself off
the horse, kicking Kenneth in the side of his helmed head in the process. 
Stoically, Kenneth maintained both his temper and his grip on her. She kept
fighting, and he kept holding.

It was thus the entire way back
to the castle.

 

 

***

 

 

The door was locked and there was
little chance escaping. Aubrielle had spent a long time pouting, alternately
sitting in the only chair the chamber had to offer and stomping about the
floor. When she would grow weary of one, she would do the other.

Night was falling and still, her
mother had not come to tell her farewell. She knew that it had been her
mother’s intention all along to leave her with her uncle, though the woman had
camouflaged the truth in the guise of a family visit.  Soon her anger gave way
to disappointment, and then sadness. As the sun set, she knew that her mother
was never coming. Disappointment gave way to tears.

Aubrielle’s tears eventually
faded and she wiped her eyes, trying to be callous to the fact that her
weakling mother had abandoned her. She consoled herself with the knowledge that
she would have escaped Kirk also had it not been for the big blond beast that
had caught her.  Her mind wandered to the knight they called Kenneth; all she
had been able to see of him was his eyes, so blue that they were nearly silver.
He had thick blond lashes, too. His body was enormous, much larger than any man
she had ever seen, and he had easily used that strength against her. The more
she had struggled against him, the easier it seemed to become for him. He’d
never raised a sweat or uttered a word of pain in all of the struggles they had
been through.

She was singling out a particular
hate for him at the moment. Mostly, she was feeling hurt and abandoned and
needed someone other than herself to blame. Rising from the chair, she paced
over to the hearth, watching the embers burn low. The night would be cold; she
could feel the breeze passing through the lancet windows. Glancing around her
chamber, she noted that it was a large room with a big bed. It was then she
noticed her trunks in the corner. Her tears sprang fresh, realizing this place
was to be her prison.

Her foot was sore where she had
kicked the big knight. She sat on the bed and removed her slipper, rubbing her
sore toes. It had been stupid to kick armor, but she had done it anyway. As she
was rubbing, the door to her chamber rattled and her heart leapt, startled by
the sound.  The panel finally opened and the earl entered, followed by a
serving woman with a tray in her arms. Behind the woman came Lucius.

Aubrielle hadn’t seen Lucius in a
few years. He was a tall man, nice looking, his dark brown hair now tinged with
gray at the temples. His dark beard was neat and trimmed. When he smiled
apprehensively, she gave him a hateful look and focused on her uncle.

“So you bring food to the
prisoner,” she said. “I suppose I should thank you for your humane treatment.”

The earl’s pleasant expression
faded. “You are as lovely as ever, Aubrielle. A pity I cannot say the same for
your manner.”

She lifted an eyebrow at him.
“What would you know of my manner? You make it a point of not being around me
whenever my mother and I visit. In fact, I would say this is the first time in
years you have addressed me civilly.”

The earl rubbed a hand over his
face, glancing at Lucius, wishing to God he had never agreed to his sister’s
plea. The serving girl set the tray down before Aubrielle and quickly vacated
the chamber. As the woman left, another figure entered the room.

Aubrielle knew it was the knight
who had captured her simply by his eyes. The rest of the man meant nothing to
her, even though he was without his armor. His enormous size gave him away as
well, arms the size of tree limbs and legs as thick as a horse’s neck. His hair
was a pale shade of blond, the thick curls close cropped against his scalp. He
met her gaze, feeling her hatred clear across the room. His only reaction was
to plant his thick legs and cross those massive arms across his chest. If she
were hoping to intimidate him, she would be sorely disappointed.

Aubrielle felt as if she was
being ambushed. She pointed at Kenneth. “So you bring him to fight with me
again?” she looked at her uncle. “Why have you brought them both? To punish
me?”

“No one is going to punish you, Aubrielle,”
the earl sat in a chair, slowly. “Everything in your life does not have to be a
battle. If you would only stop your belligerence, you would see that.”

She didn’t know what to think.
“Then why have you come? Why are they here?”

“Can I not come and visit my own
niece?’ The earl asked. “You are a guest in my home. Am I not allowed to visit
with my guests?”

She fixed him in the eye. “Where
is my mother?”

“She has gone home.”

Aubrielle knew that, but still,
the truth hurt. She felt like an orphan. For the first time, her aggressiveness
slipped.

“So she has left her burden with
you,” she murmured.

Garson could see she was wavering
and he welcomed the opportunity for rational conversation.

“She had hoped that a change
would do you good,” he said. “Your mother is not a strong woman. She is weary.”

“Weary of me,” Aubrielle said. “I
know the truth, uncle. You need not spare me.”

The earl tried not to validate
her too much. “I wasn’t aware I was sparing you anything,” he said casually. “Aubrielle,
your mother is tired. The death of your father has taxed her sorely and she
needs time to rest and recover. At this moment, your headstrong manner and
determination is simply too much for her to bear. She hopes that….”

“She hopes that you will somehow
conquer the shrew that has made her life miserable and drove her husband to an
early grave,” Aubrielle stood up from the bed. “Do not assume that I am
oblivious of the truth, uncle. I know that she has left me here for you to put
some sense into my head. She cannot control me and bears the hope that somehow
you can.”

Garson crossed his arms,
formulating his words. “You have had an unconventional upbringing, Aubrielle.
Though you are as beautiful as a new morning, you are without a doubt the most
unusual woman I have ever known. Your father permitted you to read and write,
and the liberal monks at St. Wenburgh filled your head with such nonsense as I
cannot comprehend. Do you not understand how odd you are, child? Do you not
understand our frustration?”

Aubrielle looked at him, hurt on
her face. “I am sorry if my learned mind is considered an oddity. I am not
ashamed of my upbringing.”

“I know you are not. But the time
has come for a more conventional education.”

“What do you mean?”

The earl rose wearily from his
chair. “I mean that your mother has asked me to domesticate you. She would like
you to learn to behave more as a proper woman should.”

“You mean she wants me to become
another stupid sheep in fine silks and lace.”

“I mean that you are to put
foolish ideas like searching for the Holy Grail out of your mind,” Garson
wagged a finger at her. “It means that you learn to act like a lady so that a
potential husband will approve of you.”

Aubrielle cast a long glance at
Lucius, then Kenneth. “And you have brought my trainers, is that it?”

“They will help,” he admitted.
“Between the three of us, I think we can handle you. Perhaps we can teach you
something from a male perspective.”

Aubrielle focused on Lucius. “How
noble, being reduced to a nursemaid.”

Lucius merely smiled. “I can
think of a worse task, my lady.”

It was meant as flattery, but she
mocked him. “Really? Perhaps you’ll be assigned to cleaning the stables next.”

Lucius did not let the comment
bother him. He maintained his smile and his composure. The earl, knowing
nothing would be settled in one night, decided to end the conversation at this
juncture. Aubrielle was still too brittle to rationally handle.  He indicated
Kenneth as he moved for the door.

“I am told you have already met,
but allow me to formally introduce Sir Kenneth St. Héver, second in command of
Wrexham’s army,” he pronounced the last name ‘
Saint Hay-ver’
. “Get used
to him. He seems to be the only one strong enough to deal with you.”

“What about dear Lucius?” she
asked, contemptuously sweet.

Lucius and the earl were heading
out the door. “You shall see enough of him,” the earl said. “Try not to eat Sir
Kenneth alive, Aubrielle. I need him.”

The door slammed with grim
finality. Aubrielle stood there a moment, thinking on the entire conversation,
aware that the massive blond knight was still standing there. She looked at
him, more closely this time. He really was a big brute, though not unhandsome.
In fact, if she thought on it, he was really quite pleasant to behold if one
liked that type. She couldn’t have cared one way or the other.

“So,” she turned away, moving
back to the food that was cooling on the tray. “You lost the wager, I take it.”

Kenneth hadn’t moved since he had
first entered the room. He watched her inspect a piece of white bread. “What
wager would that be, my lady?”

She picked at the crust. “You drew
straws to see who would have to tend me this first night. I assume you lost.”

“I won.”

She looked at him, a piece of
crust halfway to her lips. Much to his surprise, she laughed softly. “Of course
you did. You won a sleepless night, wondering if I am going to kill you as you
sleep.”

Kenneth wondered why he suddenly
felt so strange. The very instant she laughed, he felt as if all of the wind
had been knocked out of him. She had a delicious smile that curved delicately
over her straight white teeth, changing the entire countenance of her face.
He’d never seen anything so lovely.

He shifted on his thick legs,
unwinding his arms. “I believe I can defend myself.”

“You barely held your own this
afternoon.”

“Fortunately for you I did not
fight back.”

She put the bread in her mouth,
cocking her head as she chewed. “I have never seen you before. You are new to
Kirk.”

“I came into the earl’s service
two years ago, my lady.”

“I see. Whom did you serve
before?”

“The king.”

Her eyebrows lifted. “You left
the king’s service to swear fealty to a mere earl?”

“I was a gift from the king to
the earl for his support during the battle for the crown.”

No matter how unconventional Aubrielle
was, she knew that St. Héver must be a great knight to warrant such respect
from young King Edward.  The gifting of a knight was a great honor. Her
respect, and fear, for the man took root.

“Are you going to stand there all
night or are you going to sit?”

Kenneth took the chair the earl
had been seated in. Aubrielle picked at her bread, eyeing him as she did so.

“Are you married?”

“Nay, my lady.”

“Why not?”

“Because I am not.”

She puckered her lips. “You are
not the friendly type, are you?”

He would not dignify her question
with a response. She returned to her meal in silence. Kenneth watched her,
thinking he might have been able to warm to her had she not been so
disagreeable.  Their first meeting earlier in the day had fairly negated that
possibility. He did, however, admire her cunning and fighting ability. She was
a surprisingly tough woman and he respected that.

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