Medieval Ever After (160 page)

DEMETRIUS

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Ensconced in their
solar, and with Athelyna nestled in his lap, Demetrius shared a remarkably thorough kiss with his wife.  While he had planned to lead the lancers through military maneuvers with Grimbaud, Athel commanded his attention at a special feast, promising delectable fare both on the table and in their bed, so who was he to refuse her?

“Sir Demetrius, come hither.”  Briarus banged on the door, and Demetrius cursed under his breath.  “My lord, we art under attack.”

“Great bulging balls of agony.”  With care, he set aside his bride.  “Duty calls, my tempting Lily, but I will finish what I started once I dispatch our intruders, and they will rue my wrath for interrupting our intimate interlude.”

“Oh, thou wilt be careful.”  She fetched his hauberk and coif.  “Shall I summon Gerwald to help ye into thy armor?”

“Thither is no time.”  At her expression of horror, he framed her face and covered her mouth with his.  “Worry not, my Lily.  Naught can keep me from ye, and I intend to sup on the sweet flesh between thy thighs and make ye sing for me.”

“Wilt thou be serious?”  She followed him into the hall and through the side entrance, whereupon she wrenched his arm.  “Demetrius, pray, do not take unnecessary risks.”

“Woman, dost thou doubt my finesse on the battlefield?”  He chuckled, as he affixed his sheathed sword to his saddle and took his mount.  “I shall return, anon, and I want ye naked and in our bed, whereupon I shall feed ye with my own hands and make love to ye until dawn.  Now stand clear, my lady, as I would not chance injuring ye.”

“Prithee, a moment.”  As had become her habit, and one he treasured, she clutched his wrist and pressed his palm to her cheek.  “My lord, I love ye.  That is one of the reasons I locked ye in our solar tonight, because I wanted to tell ye, in private.  But should something happen, I want ye to know thee dost carry my heart, wherever thou dost go.”

Soldiers ran across the courtyard, and servants rushed in all directions, but Demetrius bent and pulled Athel into his lap.  Without regard for those present, he claimed his bride’s lips in an unshakeable affirmation of shared devotion.  And when he at last broke their connection, he rested his forehead to hers and gazed into her eyes.

Nagging fear danced a jig down his spine, but he brushed off the disconcerting emotion.  It was time for him to move beyond the sadness of the past and seize his future.  And if he hoped to win the future he desperately desired, he had to take a leap of faith.

“My Lily, I love ye, too.”  And he chuckled, when she shrieked and hugged him so tight he could scarcely draw breath.  “All right, my lady wife, know that I share thy excitement.  However, duty calls, and I am remiss in my priorities, at the moment.  But when I have dispatched our invaders, I shall come for ye, and thou would do well to prepare thyself for my invasion.”

“I am already conquered, my lusty husband.”  When he set her down, she maintained her grip on his hand.  “My lord, I do love ye.  Come back to me, safe and sound, else I shall be sorely vexed, as thither art many felicitations to savor this night.”

“My lady, thou mayest depend upon it.”  He winked.

And so with his Lily’s heart as a shield, he stormed into the fray, with Grimbaud to the left and Briarus to the right, but Demetrius was confused by what he confronted outside the curtain wall.  As soon as he entered the field, the raiders, what thither were of them, dispersed.  It seemed illogical to attempt an assault with such small numbers, and he did not comprehend their goal.

“My lord, the fence is damaged, and some cattle have escaped.”  Briarus held up a torch.  “I will herd the stock with the guards.”

“Send Gerwald to fetch some of the craftsmen, and I will help repair the breach in the wattle.”  Lightning flashed, followed by the rumble of thunder, and he cursed.  “Hurry, as we do not need to be caught in a storm.”

“But I do not see Gerwald.”  Grimbaud rotated his stallion.  “Did he accompany ye?”

“Nay.”  Demetrius peered into the darkness, as the wind howled.  “I thought he was with ye.”

“That boy is as useless as teats on a boar hog, and we are better off without him, as he doth naught but complain.”  Briarus rode beyond the line.  “Sir, thither art only three loose cows.  Let us mend the fence and return to the castle, before we take an impromptu bath.”

Working together, Demetrius and his men re-stacked and restored the barrier, but something in the back of his mind told him all was not as it appeared.  And a single nagging question pummeled him without mercy.  Wherefore would someone feign a theft?

And then an awful realization dawned.

What if the supposed thievery was naught more than a distraction to lure him from his fortress?

“Briarus, Grimbaud, let us return to the castle—now.”  Demetrius set a course for home and Athelyna.

“Is something wrong, my lord?” the marshalsea inquired.

“I know not, but I am troubled.”  He heeled the flanks of his destrier and charged through the field.  Half expecting the castle to be under siege, he sighed in relief, when naught seemed amiss.  In the bailey, the Winchesters remained on alert, and he flew past the master of the horse and drew rein at the main entry, whither he found Isotta.

“Whither is Athelyna?”  He scanned the vicinity but did not spy his wife.

“I know not.”  The housekeeper shrugged.  “But she was hither, when ye departed.  Mayhap she retired to thy chambers.”

He recalled his salacious request and ran to their quarters.  The solar was empty, so he burst into the bedroom, in search of Athel, only to find the four-poster vacant, and the chill of dread seeped into his chest.  In a few strides, he regained the front egress, whereupon he located Grimbaud and Briarus.

“Lady Athelyna is missing.”  Just giving voice to his fear almost broke him.  “Summon the staff and search every part of the castle.  Leave no stone unturned.”

For the second time that night, the Winchesters organized a response, and the result rendered Demetrius adrift on an ocean.  He retraced his steps and studied the space he shared with Athel, but naught had been taken.  Even her robe remained draped at the foot of their bed.

“Sir Demetrius, we have completed the task, and Lady Wessex, Gerwald, and three soldiers are gone.”  Grimbaud rubbed the back of his neck.  “We can pursue them, but not now, as the storm intensifies.”

“But the foul weather works in our favor, as they could not have made it very far without stopping.”  Briarus shuffled his feet.  “We can give chase at first light, my lord.”

“Fine.”  So many thoughts echoed in his brain, and he waved to his men.  “Get some rest, and we depart at dawn.”

Alone in what he once considered his sanctuary, Demetrius sat at the table.  With his elbow propped on the armrest, he stared at the window, as the gentle rap of rain pelting the glass kept time with his heartbeat.

The declaration his Lily so boldly proclaimed played a mocking refrain, and he covered his ears, as if he could shut out the memory.  Was it a lie?  Had she made a fool of him?

It was his persistent lack of faith that reared its ugly head, that shouted crude taunts, and he questioned everything about his marriage and his wife.  Was everything he thought they built naught more than a ruse?  Had she planned, all along, to run away with her brother, given she defended him at every turn?

Something inside him shattered, in that moment.  Cracks and fissures spidered and snaked through every part of his being, leaving naught unscathed.  Searing agony festered and ignited, scorching his marrow, and he clenched his fists.

“Damn thee to hell.”  In a single sweep, he sent the trenchers and tankards tumbling to the floor.  “I spit on thee.  I curse thee for hurting me, and from my broken heart I stab at thee.  I pray ye dost meet a similar fate, as thou hast slayed me, Athel.”

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Athelyna struggled against her bindings, to no avail.  Through the canvas bag stretched over her head, she could spy naught, but woe the poor fool who took her from her home and Demetrius.

A storm raged, and the rain soaked her to the skin.  If she caught a cold, and a resulting illness injured her babe, thither would be hell to pay.

At last, her captors stopped for the night, and she tried but failed to glean any clues through the whipping gale.  When someone dragged her from her horse, she resisted.

“Calm thyself, Athel.”  Gerwald groaned as he set her feet on the ground.  “I put up a tent, and I would see to thy comfort.”

When he removed the sack, she blinked, as even the dim light from the brazier hurt her eyes.  “Art thou out of thy mind?  Wherefore hast ye taken me from Winchester?”

“Because thou never wished to marry, but I forced ye to do so, that I might advance in stature.”  He produced a knife and cut the rope from her wrists.  “These past months with Sir Demetrius have taught me a few things, not the least of which is what sort of man I would become, with the opportunity to atone for past mistakes.”

“I beg thy pardon?”  She assessed her bloody flesh.  “Thou dost speak of recompense for thy wrongs, when ye hast wasted precious opportunities under Demetrius’s tutelage and stolen me from my husband?  Thou dost make no sense.”

“I thought, mayhap, I would return ye to the convent, as thou didst desire to become a nun.  Then I will petition the King for a new commission, elsewhere, as Demetrius hath no respect for our family legacy, and naught I do pleases him.  That is why he treats me like a servant.”  A soldier carried in a few belongings, and Gerwald stepped aside.  “Bring my sister some ham and bread.”

“Aye, sir.”  The guard saluted.

“And thou hast re-tasked His Majesty’s soldiers?”  She scoffed.  “Art thou mad?  He will send ye to the block.”

“Athel, I am trying to do the right thing by ye.”  He folded his arms.  “Canst thou truly claim ye were happy with Demetrius, when I saw ye weeping in the courtyard, and thou didst require Isotta’s comfort?”

“Oh, thou great gulf of ignorance.”  She could have screamed at the irony.  “I was crying because I just found out I am with child, which deems me entirely unsuitable for a convent and the life of a nun.”

“Thou art pregnant?”  Gerwald blinked.  “But—how?”

“Art thou joking?  How dost ye think?”  At once, the ire building within her sought an outlet, and Athel reared back and slapped her brother.  “Thou wilt take me home, and if thou dost refuse, I will not protect ye when Demetrius comes for me.  And he will come for me.”

“But, thou cannot mean that.”  Frowning, Gerwald rubbed his cheek.  “Thou didst run away twice, in an attempt to evade thy wedding.  Wherefore should I believe thy protestations otherwise?”

“I am well aware of my actions, brother.”  Livid, she struck him again.  “But I love my husband.  Dost thou hear me?  I love Demetrius.  And I will fight to return to him, so thou wilt take me home—now.”

“It is too dangerous, as we traveled through the fields to avoid capture.”  He shrugged.  “Thus I know not our present location, but we are sheltered and shall remain hither until the tempest passes.”

“And then ye will convey me to Winchester Castle.”  She wagged her finger.  “If thou dost not do as I command, I will be sure to tell my husband of thy indifference, and I guarantee he will exact recompense.”

“Art thou certain?”  Gerwald scratched his temple.  “I was only trying to make  reparations and gain thy forgiveness.”

“Gerwald, I am furious with ye.  If thou wanted to make amends for past transgressions, ye should have left me in my warm chamber, in the safety of my husband’s custody.”  The guard entered the tent and handed her a trencher, with large chunks of ham and bread, and a tankard, and a brilliant plan formed in her brain.  “I cannot consume this, as the pieces art too big.”

“Thou mayest use my knife.”  Gerwald yielded the utensil.  “Eat and rest, and we will discuss the situation on the morrow, as thither art other options.”

She just stopped herself from arguing with him.  Instead, she averted her gaze.  “All right.”

Alone, Athel shoved morsels of food into her mouth and washed the fare down with ale.  Huddled near the brazier, she uttered a prayer for strength, as lightning flashed, and thunder shook the earth beneath her.  Staring at the knife, she wondered at the hour and peered between a small gap in the flaps.