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Authors: Samantha Holt

The Crimson Castle

BOOK: The Crimson Castle
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The

Crimson Castle

Samantha
Holt

 

Copyright 2012
©Samantha Holt

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or
reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case
of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and
incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and
are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales,
organisations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

 

Table
of Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 1

The vultures arrived more quickly than she had expected.

Like a winged demon he came, the hooves of his horse beating a path to
her soul. His dark cloak billowed behind him as he galloped along the muddy
path, birthed from the gloomy woods that bordered the village. She watched him
with interest. Aside from merchants, strangers were an uncommon sight in their
small settlement. She stood on the gently rolling bank of the hill, the cool
spring air biting her cheeks as her skirts flowed around her ankles, the hem of
her white gown muddied from her short journey to solitude.

From her position she could look out over the village of
Beldersert
and its farms. Houses were strewn haphazardly,
scattered across the bulk of the land, radiating from her home - the manor
house. Its thatched roof and whitewashed walls watched over the huts like a
mother hen doting on her chicks. Children played in the street as they dallied
over their chores, ignoring the scolding shouts from their parents. People
worked the fields and tended the animals, fetching water from the well and
greeting one another with a friendliness borne of living in close quarters.

Sorrow assailed her, her solitude emphasised by the social activities
of the villagers. As daughter of the Lord of the Manor, she had always felt excluded,
her standing in society drawing a distinct division between her and the
villagers that had now become her responsibility.  Evelyn had lost her
father a little over a sennight ago, but the pain was as fresh as if it were
yesterday and on days like today she felt it would never abate.

Her journey to the outskirts was a bid to escape the burdens life had
thrown upon her and to primarily escape the fear of a future now unknown.
Watching the newcomer, she wondered if fate had taken the decision from her
hands and was bringing her future to her. As he approached she could make out
his almost black hair and shadowy clothing to match.

A flick of his eyes as he bolted
past afforded a view of their startling colour - a bold blue - unexpected in
the sinister figure he struck. Villagers watched him with distrust, as if they
could sense that change was upon them. As he galloped towards the manor and
stopped at the stables, fear lurched in her stomach. Reluctantly she hitched up
her skirts and made her way slowly home to see what fate had in store for her.

***

She was greeted by the anxious bustling of Sarah, the family servant
since before Evelyn’s birth, and took her time readying herself to meet their
visitor. Shedding her cloak with deliberate leisure, mayhap hoping to delay the
inevitable, Sarah whispered to her with a guarded look.

“There’s a Sir Gabriel of
Merston
here to see
you, milady. He comes with word from Lord
Tibald
de
La Roche.”

Evelyn nodded and suppressed the feeling of gloom that descended upon her.
Of all the vultures, it had to be him.

Upon viewing Sir Gabriel, Evelyn understood Sarah’s wary expression. He
was tall, broad shouldered, with an ominous presence. Something she was unable
to asses from her hill top. His dark, dishevelled hair sat unfashionably long
upon his collar. A surcoat of dark brown leather laid over his chainmail.

“Sir Gabriel.” She dipped as she greeted him and he turned at the sound
of her voice, hesitantly stepping away from the crackling heat of the fire.

“Lady Evelyn.”

He looked at her with those blazing blue eyes, a distinct contrast to
the darkness of his attire. There was no softness in his face; his was one that
spoke of the hardships and trials of life and a grim smile pulled across it
within a shadow of stubble. The light from the fire, whilst warming the pallor
of his skin, did nothing to disperse the menacing aura that shrouded him.
Shadows danced on a face that bore down on her, the illumination starkly
contrasting the strength of his features.  

“Lady Evelyn, I have come on behalf of Lord
Tibald
de La Roche.” His eyes flicked over her somewhat disconcertingly, but she
determined he found nothing of interest as his stony expression remained.

Though there was some distance between them, he towered over her,
absorbing what little light there was in the room. She resisted the urge to
back into the doorway
.
His
appearance certainly belied the image that his name conjured.

“Pray tell, what brings you with such haste.”

She knew she was being abrupt, but his bearing put her on edge and the
sound of his master’s name did not relieve her anxiousness. She had never met
him, but her father had spoken of the man and she was given to understand he
had been highly interested in a union with Evelyn, motivated no doubt by her dowry.
Her father had painted him as cruel and grasping and had steadfastly refused
any notion of the betrothal of his beloved daughter to such a man.

Evelyn was the youngest of the children born to her parents. They had
suffered the loss of two daughters in infancy prior to her birth and had doted
on her and her brother, William. When her mother had passed, her father’s
reliance on her only heightened. His reluctance to part with her had saved her
from an arranged marriage, something she was most grateful for as she watched
her peers married off in loveless unions. In spite of being ever practical,
Evelyn suffered the trait of being easily distracted -an escapist by nature -
and the thought of her freedom being stolen in such a manner petrified her.

Gabriel interrupted her thoughts. “My lord wishes me to pass on his
condolences at the death of Sir Roger.”


‘Tis
very kind of Lord
Tibald
,
but I know you did not come all this way to offer sympathies. Speak plainly,
Sir, and tell me the true reason behind your visit.”

Evelyn hadn’t intended to be so forthright but there was something
about him that provoked her. He stood with arrogance, a slight smirk on his
face, and his eyes penetrated deep into hers. His manners, whilst not poor, did
not seem natural, as if his every action was carefully considered.

“I have a missive.” He handed it to her, fumbling slightly as he did
so, taken aback by her candour. “As I am sure you are aware,
Beldersert
has been left in a vulnerable position since the
death of your father. Lord
Tibald
wishes to offer you
his protection.”

His face revealed no sign of emotion other than the impassive look of
someone performing a duty beyond his station.

She read the letter, acutely aware of his observation as she did so.
The missive gave Evelyn no immediate cause for concern but intimated the
benefits of an agreement between the two of them, an arrangement that she
suspected would be more of benefit to Lord
Tibald
. He
requested her presence in order that they could discuss matters. Evelyn did not
relish the thought of being at his mercy but knew she would be obliged to visit
him.

With a barely suppressed sigh and a droll smile, she raised her head to
meet with the knight’s intense scrutiny.  “And tell me, Sir, what does
Lord
Tibald
expect in return for his protection?”

Gabriel had the decency to look slightly discomfited at this
question.  “I have not been informed of the details, my lady. Lord
Tibald
requests that you visit him to discuss the nature of
your agreement. I have come to personally escort you.”

Evelyn’s composure slipped slightly. “He wishes me to leave
Beldersert
now? I have not long buried my father. I cannot
possibly leave
.“

“Lady Evelyn, I think it wise you meet with the lord as soon as you
can.
Beldersert
need not be left vulnerable any
longer than necessary.”

She huffed, “Your lord is not the first to have his eye on our land and
I am sure he will not be the last. Why should I bow to such demands? “

Her father had been a famed warrior in his prime and well respected. There
had been little interest in their land until recently. Now greed and corruption
seemed to be spreading throughout England like a disease, leaching its way into
the hearts and minds of previously good men. With her brother fighting in the
crusades and her father dead,
Beldersert
was more
vulnerable than ever. Word had been sent to William after her father’s death,
asking for his return, but it would be many weeks until he received her letter.

He looked gravely at her. “You are aware of my master’s reputation, are
you not?”

She merely nodded her assent, a frown creasing her smooth forehead.

“Then heed my advice, Lady Evelyn. Lord
Tibald
is not a man to be trifled with. Do as he bids and protect yourself and your
people.”

Taken aback by his response, her frown deepened as she watched the
disturbing man. She was unused to such frankness, the men she associated with
usually going out of their way to prove their gallantry. Evelyn’s headstrong
personality meant she was accustomed to voicing her opinion, possibly stemming
from her father’s side over leniency, but she was little used to being on the
receiving end of such candour. It disconcerted her and trepidation simmered
within.

“It seems I am to have my hand forced, does it not? But tell me how am
I meant to travel when I cannot afford to deprive my lands of its guard, seeing
as it is evidently in such a perilous position?”

“I assure you, Lady Evelyn, your people will be in no danger. You have
no need to take any men, ‘tis only a short journey and I am all the protection
you will need.”  He glowered slightly as if to prove his masculinity. “My
lord can despatch his guard within a day if necessary to help protect your
lands in your absence.”

Evelyn released an unladylike snort and checked a laugh as he looked at
her with surprise. “I am sure my people have no want for the sort of protection
Lord
Tibald
can provide.”

She had no doubt that her people would be held accountable should she
disagree with his terms.

Pleased to have erased her conceit, if only for a moment, she didn’t
wait for an answer. “Give me leave to prepare myself, Sir. You may stay the
night; I will have you shown to your chambers shortly.”

Without waiting for acknowledgement, Evelyn swept out of the room
leaving Gabriel somewhat bemused.

The knight watched the swish of her skirts as she exited the room, her
nose angled high with a majestic countenance. Her bold manner had startled him,
an unexpected spirit in such a delicate creature. Her diminutive form was
emphasised by the cinching of her white gown, her long sleeves serving to
accentuate her slender limbs. Her fiery green eyes conflicted with her nymph
like appearance and hinted at her wilful temperament.

She had been older than he expected, mayhap nineteen. He had assumed
she would be but a girl as she was yet unmarried but instead he had been
confronted by a passionate, obstinate woman, and he suspected she would be a
handful.

With a sigh, heavy with life’s burdens, he wondered how she would fare
against Lord
Tibald’s
anger. He hoped she would reign
in her impudence when in his presence. There was no telling his reaction if
Evelyn angered him and Gabriel was quickly tiring of bearing the brunt of it.

 

Chapter 2

Their journey began early the next morning.  The guest was up and
joined her silently for the morning meal. The only sign of animation came from
his quick eyes, skimming over her in an inquisitive nature.

A farewell to the servants and a brief meeting with Geoffrey, her
father’s steward, and all was settled. He was a capable man and Evelyn trusted
him to take care of everything in her absence.  

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