Ria Cantrell - Celtic Storm 03 (38 page)

He watched her looking at him with hatred and disgust. That mattered not to him. It would make her unleash the darker side of that power with more might. Besides, he would enjoy her fight when he finally took her. He had thought to drug her, like he had done to her brother, but he wanted her in her right mind when he made her his whore after all. That thought only enhanced his pleasure.

She looked upon him with something akin to the way one looked at a bug about to be squashed. No amount of acting could make her pretend to not hate him. He was the most vile of creatures and while she sensed his evil, she also sensed he was undisciplined and that he let his desires rule him. That could work against him, too. Many thoughts were being mulled over in her mind and she prayed for the strength to pull off her ruse. His odor was enough to send her retching in the soiled rushes again, but she closed herself off to it. She had to stay her course and she had to be strong. At least, she had to appear that she was.

Aaron peeled off his gloves. He wanted to touch that beautifully unmarred flesh and he would not be deterred. He approached her again and his meaty paw closed over her upper arm. She flinched but said nothing. He grinned, showing his pointed and rotted teeth.

“You find me lacking, Mistress. Such a shame! But I care not if you want me. In truth, when I rut with you, I prefer it when there is resistance…to a degree.” He taunted, “I do hope that Erik opened you up enough to take me. I am far bigger than he. I had heard you were a virgin? T’is another shame that you gave yourself so freely to him.”

Rhianna wanted to scream that she did not give herself freely, like a whore. She had been a woman in love. But love had no place in her defense so she just stood stoically and bore his vile and piggish taunts. She felt his hand on her and she held her breath. The last thing she wanted to do was to provoke his anger. She steeled herself as his fingers lightly danced down the inside of her arm and she felt a tremor race across her flesh, causing it to bump up as if a chill had come upon her.

Rhianna wished she could jerk her arm from his filthy, dirt caked fingernails, but she held herself as still as possible. He jeered, “Hmmm, goose flesh. I wonder if your nipples will pucker so at my touch.”

As his hand went to close over her breast, she lost her sense of self control and she raked her nails across his face, wishing she could claw out his one good eye. His hand, swift and punishing, cuffed her and she felt her head snap back at the blow. “Damn you, you spiteful bitch! I do believe you drew blood.”

She wanted to cry as the sting of the blow burned on her cheek, but she did not. She looked at him levelly and she said, “I only wished to grant your request,
m’lord
. You said you wished me to resist you. Have you changed your mind?”

He laughed and said, “You are playing a dangerous game, Mistress. You do not know what I am capable of.”

“I do know. I saw the sadistic things you did to your prisoners. I know what you did to my brother. If I die at your hands, so be it, but then you will have not gathered the…gifts you so desire. Mark me, Aaron Jasper, I will die resisting you or you will use me wisely, because you will not have many chances, I can assure you of that. You will choose, either my other worldly gifts or my body, but you shall not have both for I would rather die than become your whore.”

He spat, “You are already a whore.”

Rhianna’s spine stiffened at his words. If what he had said about Erik was true, he was right. His words warred in her mind and heart and she could not allow herself to believe them or all would be lost. She had to hold on to the promise of love, at least for a little longer. If she got out of Morcar with her life, she would seek retribution from the king himself for what had been done to her; mostly, what Erik had done to her heart.

Dabbing his cheek with the back of his hand, he inspected the beads of blood that dotted his skin. She had courage or stupidity, he knew not which. He said with sarcasm dripping from his tongue, “I see you are tired, Mistress, from your long ride. Perhaps a night in the cells will tame some of that venom. Guards!”

Before she could protest, two foul looking men came to Aaron’s aid. He said, “Take her to the cells.”

“Shall we set her in the chains, m’lord?”

“Nay. I do not want her flawless skin marred. The
nasty
chains will chafe her badly, I am afraid. Put her in one of the pits so she can think about her lot until morning. The moon is nearly full. I need full power of it to complete my rituals. I lost the benefit of Samhain by a day. Upon the moon’s rising, her fate will be cast by then. Until that time, let her enjoy my
hospitality
in our fine dungeons.”

Rhianna felt the two goons grab her by each arm and she protested, “No…do not put me in there. No,” she fairly screamed.

She strained against them and she tried to kick at them. She heard Aaron Jasper’s malevolent laugh as he said, “Careful lads, she has quite a lot of force in her kicks. I would not let her catch you unawares.”

The men overpowered her and dragged her toward the dungeons. She twisted her body and squirmed, trying to break free from them, but she was no match for their strength. Rhianna felt panic rise in her breast at the prospect of being tossed in one of those dark, closed-in places. She needed a little light or she would feel like she was drowning. As the two thugs tossed her into the cell, they slammed the heavy iron-hinged door behind her. She heard them slide the bar home and she was plunged into darkness. There were no bars or shafts of light to aid her into seeing her surroundings. She pounded furiously and screamed to be let out until both her knuckles and her throat were raw. She could hear the wails and cries of other people locked away and the sound of that woman howling in the oubliette wafted through the crack of the door.

The cell was airless and dank. It smelled of rot and human waste. Her feet slipped on something wet and slimy and Rhianna could only imagine what horrible liquid she had stepped into. The darkness felt like a tomb and it closed around her like a vise suddenly gripping her heart. Rhianna sank into a corner and hugged her knees. Only then, did she let her guard down and she cried long overdue tears. She cried for herself and the human despair of all those around her which settled upon her like a heavy cloak. She cried for the courage she could not find. And most of all, she cried for Erik; for his false heart and for all the love she had given to him, which he did not deserve. The tears fell like rain and she sobbed silently in her misery. She felt the cold slime of the wall ooze through her clothes and into her flesh and Rhianna realized she no longer cared.

~Chapter Forty-Seven~

Erik gave commands to the men gathered with him. No one, not even Randall questioned him and so all followed his lead as they surrounded the outlying area of Morcar Keep. It was bordered by only a thin line of trees. Not much to use as cover, Erik thought. He should have been tired, for they rode from early morning and into the night to get there and he had not slept at all the night before. When he saw the castle in such horrible disrepair, his heart twisted in his chest. He had never prayed so vehemently as he had during the silence of the ride. He had to get Rhianna out of that hideous place even if he had to die trying.

He worried a little about the bordering river on the one side of the keep, but for now, they were hidden among the trees as they waited for night to completely shroud them. Erik watched the sparse amount of guards that walked upon the battlements. It seemed that Morcar Keep was not as well protected as he may have thought.
Although, perhaps things were truly not what they appeared to be.
As luck would have it, the moon seemed to be unnaturally bright this night and their cover was not going to be as complete as Erik had hoped.

Erik had spoken in great length to Randall about the layout of the inside of the keep. It seemed it was much more a convoluted mess of crumbled corridors than most keeps were prone to be. In fact, from what Randall could remember, most of it seemed to be beneath ground. The edifice that rose before them was in great disrepair and much of it was in ruin. Unnatural sounds drifted on the breeze and Erik felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise in warning.

He tried not to let his mind wander, and to stay focused on the business of saving his wife, but thoughts invaded his reason. These were thoughts of things that Andarra had said to him; things he now carried in his heart. Rhianna was with child. He had suspected it might be so, but Andarra had confirmed it. Andarra had tried to protect him with a ward charm or spell; he neither knew nor cared which. It had been undone because of the letter from the king. First he would have to save his wife and unborn child and then he would have to save their marriage…if, of course, she still wished to be married to him. First things first, though, Erik pondered and once again focused on the strategic tactics that had been carefully thought out.

They had left du Montefort with a cursory crew of defense, but they had no choice. Most of the men wanted to be ready to lay siege in order to return their precious Mistress to them. Erik was glad for it.

The moon lit the trees where they lay in wait. While it could be a hindrance to the men, it could also be an aid. It lit the battlements and Erik could see that much of that was lying in ruin as well. There seemed to be actual breaks in the walls and so the guards could not rally across the top without having to descend from one tower to gain access to another. That was good. He could easily elude the men on one, while the guards were taken from another. It would also help reduce the number of archers set to man the posts.

There seemed to be great braziers dotting along the castle walls that could be used to house molten pitch, but many of them were dark and seemingly unused. Some were readied, but most were not. That was also good. Erik would have his men avoid the areas where pitch could be poured upon them. He had his bowmen and crossbowmen poised at the ready. Now they just needed to wait.

~~~~~

When Rhianna was dragged from her cell, she was brought before the evil lord of Morcar once again. She had suffered much while sitting in that foul place. It seemed like an eternity and she had no doubt that it did not take long for people to go mad in such a place. She had no concept of time so she did not really know how long she had been in there. Her eyes streamed tears as she was suddenly met with light after being plunged in darkness for so many hours. It took a few moments for her eyes to adjust and she almost thought she had momentarily gone blind. The guards pulled her through the torch-lit corridors leading to the chambers of the beast. Rhianna called on her inner strength, because her physical strength was less than stalwart at the moment. She formed the words given to her by her mother long ago and those of Andarra’s in her mind. She had always been a healer, but she knew that she had come from a line of women who were gifted in the ways of the past. It was time she embraced that part of her legacy once and for all.

She said nothing as she was dragged before Aaron Jasper. Upon seeing her, his face almost seemed to brighten, if that could be possible. She saw the rake marks of her nails upon his cheek and it cheered her somewhat to know that she had inflicted him with even the smallest discomfort. He said, “Ahh, I trust you enjoyed
your accommodations
, Mistress?”

She did not answer him, but met his gaze without flinching.

“Hmm, still not tamed, I see. Good. I would not tame that fire. The moon is nearly full in the sky. Come see.”

He led her to the balcony off his chamber and she saw that the yellow moon was indeed full and bright this night. Her eyes scanned the horizon and she thought she saw a glint among the trees. Was it her imagination or had she really seen it?  Perhaps he had his guards lining the thin copse of trees that bordered the keep.
Perhaps not.
She dared not get her hopes up that there were people coming for her. She prayed silently, “
Please lord, spare me. Let it be my brother and his men come for me.
”

She forced herself not to look again toward the trees, lest she give something away. Instead she looked down near the banks of the river. The moon shone golden on the rolling water beneath her. There on the bank near the rise into the rock was a strange image that set her heart to hurl in her chest. A scaffold had been erected with a pyre of dried twigs lying in wait to be lit. She knew what that was intended for. Rhianna felt sick to her stomach. She looked up from the view and met the leering face of her captor.

“I see you have discovered the little gift I have created for you.”

“I…I thought you wanted me to aid in your power.”

“Oh, I do, Mistress. I truly do, but you see, if I find you are not useful to me, I am afraid that we cannot have a witch roaming these parts, can we?”

Rhianna tamped down the violent fear that now raced through her veins. Aaron Jasper smiled his evil grin, which looked more like the snarl of a beast than a man. He said, “I see you understand. I would hope that you are more…hmmmm, cooperative than you were last night. Now, let us begin.”

Aaron held out a plain sack of bleached homespun and he said, “You will be my acolyte. Put this on.”

To emphasize his request, he tore her gown down the middle and he said, “Do it. I prefer you naked, but I think your false modesty will prevent us from the ritual. I can wait until it is done to have you as I wish.”