Angie Arms - Flames series 04 (14 page)

~   ~   ~

When Halvor helped Jillian up onto the dais for the afternoon meal their time by the river delayed, her eyes lit up, Halvor knew in that instant his wife’s command would be forever his desire to grant.  When she sat down in his chair earlier behind his desk, he saw how comfortable she found it, and he ordered it traded for her chair at the dining table.  She spent the meal in between eating, rubbing the cushioned arm of the chair, and casting glances his way, her eyes still filled with her surprise. 

She
further wiggled her way into his heart when her eyes fell on one of his soldiers, kissing one of the women of her keep.  She first looked concerned, then confused at the girl’s reaction.

“That’s Joe,” Halvor said
, with a nod toward the two.  “He’s a good man.  My second in command.”

Jillian
only continued to stare at the two. 

“I think they are quite taken with each other.”

Jillian remained quiet for another minute, before she turned to Halvor.  “Have you ever kissed a woman like that?”

“Like what?” he asked
, looking back at the two.

“Like she is fragile
, and all important to you.”

“Have you ever kissed a man like her?  Like he is everything to you?”  He did not know why he asked the question.  He knew
, as soon as it was out of his mouth, he did not want an answer.

“I have never had a desire to kiss a man.  Bruce would kiss
, but it was nothing like that,” she said, casting her eyes back to the couple.

“Perhaps
, if you were kissed by the right man, you would have a desire.”

Jillian snorted.  “Not likely.”

“Even if he held you like you were fragile, and looked at you as if you were all important to him?”

He watched Jillian swallow,
then quickly redirect her attention to her food.  Intimacy was a conversation his wife was apparently uncomfortable in discussing, but was curious about all the same. 

A repair problem at the mill kept him from his eveni
ng in the solar with Jillian, but he intercepted her in the corridor before she entered her room.

“I
hoped I would see you before you retired.”

She stopped and turned toward him
.  He could not mistake the smile that lit up her face.  “I admit I was feeling disappointed.”

Halvor stepped closer.  “The last thing I want to do is disappoint you.”  He looked down at her for a couple breaths of time before he slowly lowered his head, not breaking eye contact
, as he gently touched his lips to hers.  Ever so gently, he brushed his lips across hers, slowly extending the tip of his tongue, to caress where she nervously pressed her lips together.  He applied the slightest of pressure to make them pucker, so he could slowly suck her top lip gently.  A small sigh escaped her, so he did it again, before releasing her and straightening.

“Now you can say you have been kissed by a man who thinks you as fragile as a flower
, and finds you have become far more important to his life then he could have ever imagined.”  He turned and left her then.  He wanted to stay, but she was 12 months pregnant with her child, but still he felt his desire was on the brink of uncontrolled.  He looked back at her, before turning the corner, still standing rooted to the floor in front of her door, two fingers resting on her lips, as she stared after him.  He offered her a smile, before he walked from sight.

~   ~   ~

Two weeks passed since their kiss, and Jillian had to admit she was enjoying having a husband.  He took care of overseeing the running of the property, and she was content in her increasing fatigue, to see the house ran smoothly, a task mainly seen to by Hildred.  She vowed when she had the baby and recovered, she would see that Hildred had some respite from the constant household demands, on top of Jillian’s.  The older woman earned a rest.

Halvor did not try to kiss her again
.  He did not change in his demeanor toward her, remaining kind and thoughtful.  She wondered if things would change once she gave birth.  He was a good man not to risk injuring her with his husbandly demands, but she feared that would change later, when his actions would be his rightfully, and there was nothing to frown upon, even if she was unwilling.  At least she knew it would not be the same as with Bruce.  How could it?  If Halvor was like Bruce, he would not be concerned about her condition.

Havi
ng a husband was an enjoyment, until he rode from Hawknest three days before.  Jillian was surprised at her anger when he made the decision to leave.  Sir Cyrille sent a message to Halvor, explaining they were at Kinsey with Lord Garrick’s wife.  Garrick went to fight with Richard, while Sir Damien refused, and was fortified within his own walls, sending Cyrille and his wife Keri away.  Halvor tried to explain the urgency, but she had to admit she had little interest in it beyond the fact her husband decided he would go to Kinsey as well.  That he was leaving made her angry, because she was due to give birth at any moment.  At least she prayed several times a day her time was upon her.  If Halvor did not act as if he cared, she doubted she would, but she felt she was developing a relationship with her husband.  It seemed to be a partnership, developing into a comfortable friendship.  That was until he left, and she was filled with building apprehension.

She couldn’t help but wonder at her change in attitude.  There was a time she wished her husband would leave
, and never return.  She remembered her joy at the news Bruce was dead.  But Halvor was a different story.  Jillian wondered what she would do if he never returned.  The thought filled her with fear, because she found someone who would be nice to her, she knew the alternative all too well.

The morning meal was
just finished and Hildred ordered her to bed, but Jillian was feeling too restless.  She gave a half hearted effort to find the two men who were to follow her each time she left the safety of Hawknest’s walls.  The truth was she did not have the patience for them today.  She wanted to go to the pool and wished not to be disturbed by the two hulking idiots.  She slipped out the gate unnoticed, and made her way to the stream, following it until she came to her private oasis.  Awkwardly, she sat on the ground, pulling her slippers off, and sliding them into the cool water. 

The day was a beautifully peaceful one, the birds in the trees sang their lilting songs and the babbling of the water flowing by lulled her into a relaxed mind she could not remember having for a lo
ng time.  She remembered the last visit here all too well, and the feel of Halvor next to her.  His smile.  She loved his smile, it lit up his face and made her know with him nearby, everything would be all right.  After all, who would dare challenge her larger than life husband?

She closed her eyes and remembered how gently he kissed her.  Jillian could recall every detail of that night
, and did so often.  Her first real kiss.  She could not believe at her age she just experienced such a thing.  It was everything she could possibly hope for, and so much more.  How could a man as big as Halvor, have such a gentle nature?

She cried out as the pain ripped through her.  A pain so intense she doubled over. 
Was it time, h
er mind questioned as she pulled her feet from the water, and tried to pull on her slippers.  The pain was too much.  She could not manipulate the shoes onto her feet for the pain would not subside, it just rolled on and on, making her hands and legs shake with the effort to remain calm.  She would just leave the shoes, she decided. 

She began to climb to her feet
, but only got as far as her knees before the pain intensified and she found herself on her side, on the ground, dirt in her mouth, as she cried.  It did not end as all the other spasms throughout the pregnancy did.  This pain was not the same, and she told herself it was because the baby was coming. 

Jillian
witnessed a number of births.  Mothers screamed against the pain, they tried to explain the pain to her, but none of it seemed like this.  Mother’s giving birth had waves of pain, not the constant debilitating pain that left her lying on the ground.  Her tears and saliva made the dirt turn to mud, sticking to the side of her face, going up her nose, into her eye and mouth, but she could do nothing to stop it, not even able to raise her head. 

S
he had to do something.  She couldn’t just lay there.  The baby wouldn’t be able to come in that position.  She moved, trying to sit, but the pain blinded her and she landed back on her side.  She forced herself to roll onto her back.  She panted, a rock jabbed into her shoulder, and another in the small of her back, but they did nothing to detract from the pain in her abdomen.  She spit the dirt from her mouth, tried blinking it from her eye.  She was aware she gripped leaves, twigs and dirt in her hands, and she could feel the dirt imbedded beneath her fingernails.

She groaned, why wouldn’t the pain stop? 
Dear God, make it stop!
echoed within her mind.  How she wanted Halvor.  He would insist all was well.  She knew he could not make things okay, but she knew he would be there holding her, reassuring her, and that was better than stretched out on the forest floor, covered in dirt and leaves. 

How long does this take?  Days
, her mind replied, and she screamed hoping to release the pain through her frustration and panic. 
I can’t bare this for days.  I can’t.  I can’t.  You have to.  You have to
.  “Please God,” she begged, through gritted teeth.

Get in a better position.  That will help.  Yes, that will do it
, she told herself.  She looked about and saw a tree not far behind her.  There she could prop her back against it and draw her knees up. It would make sense that would help relieve pressure.  She raised herself, put her arms behind her and tried to pull herself in that direction.  As her lower body began to move, blackness swooped in like the evil wings of a demon, and she fell unconscious onto her back. 

Rain woke her. 
How long have I been here?
  She could not see the sun for the canopy of the trees, and the blanketing effect of the gray clouds beyond.  She was already soaked, and the pain persisted.  She raised herself again, only to her elbows, gritting her teeth, as she tried to pull herself backward.  Again the pain intensified and she dropped her head back, moaning and fighting the blackness.  One elbow closer, then another, and the blackness took her again.

She awoke with a scream
, and the intense pain confused her for a moment, fearing for a moment Bruce still lived.  But the wet ground and the sound of the stream brought her back to the horror of her present circumstance. 
Get to the tree.  Get to the tree.

She raised herself and began dragging herself backward again. 
One elbow.  Two elbows.  Three.

Get to the tree
.  Awaking again the rain had stopped but the evening light was low in the forest.  “Dear Lord,” she pleaded, feeling exhaustion and hopelessness.  Hildred did not know where she went, no one but Halvor knew of her coming to the pool. 
Get to the tree.  One elbow.  Two
.

Chapter
8

Scotts Manor

Garrick left the girl eating her breakfast in the dining room and went in search of Damien.  It
was amazing how quickly he became everything in the girl’s world.  He was likely the only one to show her kindness in her young life.  He cursed himself for leaving her to complete the task that brought him to Damien’s gates.  Garrick was not a man prone to self sacrifice, but on this day, he was ready to plunge his dagger into his own heart.  But Ryann would not be safe and the King would still have her killed.

He moved along the hallway in search
of Damien.  For two days he procrastinated, telling himself he was giving the girl ample time to gain strength with rest and food, while Damien treated him like an old friend, giving him a tour of his property, and the little village adjacent.

Damien was the kind of lord King Richard needed to covet.  He organized his people well, he always had an obedient and loyal army
, so why not his people.  The village was growing with many new construction projects underway, despite the threat of annihilation from the King.  Damien was proud of his land and all the improvements he and Keri made while in residence. 

Throughout the two days the girl clung by Garrick’s side and he balked at killing Damien in front of her.  He realiz
ed over the last two days he came up with a million reasons to delay the inevitable.  In all that time, he only found one reason to complete the task, and it was the same reason from the beginning.  No matter how many excuses he gave himself, he knew the time had come. 

He found him in the upper level sitting room.  He stood at the table next to the window
, overlooking the courtyard.  His back was to Garrick, and he found he hesitated again.  Garrick was as unsure of his next move, as he was throughout this entire ordeal.  He should rush him and get it over with.  The end result had to be the same. 

“An army will not be coming for you,” Garrick informed him.

He watched Damien’s back straighten, but he did not turn, or move away from the window.  He heard the man sigh.

“You already knew this?” Garrick questioned
, stepping into the room.

“I knew,” Damien confirmed.

“Why did you let me in?” Garrick asked, the confusion stronger than ever.

“I don’t know.  I guess I
hoped.”  Damien shrugged his shoulders.  “We’ve been through a lot together, you and I.”

“I suppose,” Garrick said
, not wanting to think of their time on the battlefield, in a prison, or that Damien helped get his wife back. 

“Does Ryann know?”

“Of course not,” Garrick said quickly.  “She will never know.”

Damien turned to study him for a moment
, before returning his attention to the view outside.  “You love her don’t you?”

Garrick studied Damien’s stiff back.  “I have never loved anything.”

Damien snickered.  “Do you care if she knows the things you’ve done, or would you rather she never know, so she will never see you for the man you are?”

“I care.”

Damien turned to study him again.  After a moment he turned back to the window.  “Then you love her.  I hope Keri never knows some of the things I’ve done.  I think my heart would stop beating if she were to look at me, and know the man I am.”

Garrick felt as if a horse kicked him in the chest.  So that was love?  Such a fragile thing he knew would be shattered if she knew he was here, ready to kill Damien
.  The man offered to be Ryann’s knight-in-shining armor when he first met her, if she needed protection from Garrick.  But there was the thought, what love would they share if he allowed the King to kill her? 

The sound of the blade clearing its sheath froze Damien.  Hadn’t he known?  “You don’t want to do this Garrick.”  He did not turn, instinctively knowing the man remained where he was.  Despite outward appearances he was ready to defend himself, one hand on his dagger, the other ready to grab the candelabra and turn it into a club.

“You’re right Damien.  I don’t want to do this.”

Damien turned, sliding his hand away from the handle of his dagger, but not far, close enough he could pull it, or his sword, in the blink of an eye.  Garrick stood, his feet braced apart, his arms were crossed over his chest, knife in hand.  He was a formidable man.  “But you know I have to.”

“So you can get more land, more riches?  What did Richard promise you this time?” Damien asked with a sneer.  “My land?”

“Do you know what the King promised me?” Damien asked, with a snarl curling his lips, his arms coming unfolded as he slowly advanced.  “If I don’t kill you, he has promised to take away everything I have fought for.  Everything Damien, down to the last coin.  Do you know the things I have done to be where I am?”

Damien’s sword cleared its sheath.  Garrick stopped instantly, his eyes flew to his face
, and cold dark eyes locked with Damien’s gray-green ones.  Garrick did not move a muscle for several breaths.  Damien faced many men in his time, but he knew he would always hate to face off with the Fenton Bastard.  As they studied one another, Damien felt fear walk up his spine, seize his breath, and send his heart in a panicked rhythm.

“I am surprised to find I would relinquish it all.”   As Garrick spoke
, the frigidness seemed to recede in his eyes, and confusion reigned for a moment.  “If only I could keep one thing.  The prize I covet above life itself is my wife.  He will kill her, as sure as we are standing here.  The one man in all Christendom who knows what will bring me to my knees.”

Garrick’s eyes changed again
, as quickly as the flip of a fly’s wing, back to the dark view of a cold grave.  “I know you to be an honorable man Sir Damien LeForte.  So I ask you to see to my wife’s safety, if I do not survive this day.”

Damien studied the Fenton
Bastard.  All the tales he heard through the years made him out to be a devil of a man, but Damien couldn’t help but remember his own hands were not clean.  What difference did it make if a man fought in the name of a king or himself?  Fighting was fighting, and killing was killing.  Putting his own fear aside, he did not want to kill Garrick.

From nowhere came Garrick’s attack.  There was no warning, no drop of his gaze, no twitch of muscle
, before the man was in motion.  Damien was in enough battles with the smaller man to know he was quick, but quick did not begin to define how Garrick moved.  He was upon Damien so fast the bigger man didn’t have enough time to raise his sword.  He got it up in just enough time his arm was able to deflect the inward swing of Garrick’s knife, cutting the arc and blade short. 

The blow was a strong one.  A blow that would have ended it
as quickly as it began if it hit its target, Damien’s throat.  Garrick was intent on killing him.  It did not seem to matter to the smaller man Damien held a sword while Garrick had his wicked looking knife, larger than a dagger, but lacked the reach of the sword still strapped at his hips.

Damien’s sword made it to a defensive level
, but Garrick twisted away, and was rushing again from the back.  Damien considered himself a superb soldier, his broad chest and tall height lent him strength against his opponents.  Despite his size he was fast on his feet, always quick to thrust and defend.  However, as he tried to gain the advantage, Garrick made him feel like a cumbersome oaf.

Damien turned the sword around, thrusting its deadly blade under his left arm.  Garrick seemed to know his move before he made it
, and dodged.  He felt the strength of Garrick’s hard muscled body latch onto his back.  An arm snaked up to pin his head.   Damien knew if he did not stop him now, his throat would be cut wide by his next breath.

With a roar Damien used his superior height and bulk to propel them backward, slamming Garrick into the wall.  As his weight mashed into Garrick’s
, he brought his elbow up behind him, and slammed it into Garrick’s face.  The Bastard’s fingers released him, and Damien spun away.

Damien expected the other man to be addled
, but his knees only buckled for an instant before he rose, using the wall as leverage, and propelled himself halfway around Damien, and out of his reach.  In the midst of Damien’s turn toward Garrick, the smaller man dove under his sword, bringing his blade up toward Damien’s chest.

Damien dropped his arm with all the strength he had in that shoulder
, and caught Garrick in the neck with his forearm.  It was a blow that would floor lesser men.  Garrick took two quick spinning steps, Damien found impossible to track, before Garrick was out of his reach again.

Blast this man
, Damien thought, his anger rising as he went on the defensive again.  Garrick came at him from the opposite side, his body low, his knife rising, going for his throat again.  Damien swung his sword, his aim off, as he moved out of the knife’s path.  Pain ripped through his chest and he didn’t have to look down to see Garrick’s knife drew blood.  Blood appeared on the sleeve of Garrick’s shoulder, and Damien felt satisfaction, knowing it was matched blow for blow.  Now Damien had to take the advantage and gain the upper hand.

Again
, before Damien could advance, Garrick was attacking, a full on assault.  One of them would not walk away, the ferocity of Garrick’s attacks insured this.  Straight at him Garrick came, and Damien had a straight target to drive his sword into the smaller man’s side.  At the last minute Garrick dodged to the side.  Damien’s sword struck the man hard, he felt it reverberate up his arm, but Garrick made not a sound as the flat side of the sword struck him on his back.  Luckily for Damien, Garrick did not anticipate such force throwing off his aim.  Garrick’s knife barely caught Damien’s forearm, opening a small nick there, before the blow propelled Garrick forward.  He spun about, taking two extra steps backward.

He paused and Damien pressed the advantage with his own attack.  He rushed the smaller man as he whirled his sword in front of him.  The movement was fast and confusing
, for the average man, but Garrick was not the average man.  It was as if Garrick picked up the rhythm of the sword to dodge beneath it.  The movement was lightning fast, but Damien knew the strength of his opponent.  As Garrick missed the blade, Damien stopped the spinning momentum to bring the hilt driving down into Garrick’s back.

The blow knocked the man flat
, but as agilely as a cat, he rolled away, and Damien’s deadly blow struck the floor.

Move, move, move
, Garrick’s mind told him, as he rolled onto his feet. Fighting Damien was like futilely trying to bring down a mountain with only his fists.  His back was on fire, with a throbbing that quickly moved to his head, as he regained his wits.  Damien attacked again, his sword came directly at his head.  At the last second Garrick stepped to the side, bringing his own blade up, and it struck Damien in the side.  He tried to follow immediately by spinning and coming at him from his back, but despite the wound Garrick just opened up, Damien was ready, and slammed him into the wall again, before he could get the blade to his throat.

The sensation of
a thousand pins driving into Garrick’s arms and legs made bile rise in this throat.  He knew Damien’s elbow was going to come back and hit him in the face again, but he could do nothing to stop it.  The force of the blow made pain explode inside his skull.  He felt Damien’s body leave his and he was falling.  His feet landed on the floor, and his numb legs crumpled under him.  He rolled, keeping his screaming body in motion.  He was out of reach and struggled to his feet.  He gripped the knife tightly, the sensation in his arms and legs, radiating all the way to his fingers.  He had to finish it quickly. 

Damien’s hand pressed to the wound on his side
, but he advanced quickly.  Garrick straightened, and with his own fast strides, went in for the kill.  Damien’s sword rose and fell, the blade intent on slicing his head into two pieces.  Garrick ducked, a forearm coming up to block the arm bringing the blade down.  The blow knocked him down to his knees, and he could not hold back the grunt as the pain exploded in his back, across his shoulder blades, where Damien’s sword handle hit him only moments before.

The pain stabbed into Garrick’s head as he lunged upward, his aim true as he rose up to drive the knife into Damien’s chest.  Damien’s weight shifted.  The one movement told him the big man was going to bring his leg up to block him.  Garrick’s knife was coming down to drive home
, when the other’s man leg struck him in the side.  It was like being hit by a horse, the blow drove him sideways.  As his reach was pulled away from Damien’s chest, Garrick continued his downward drive, going for his thigh.  The blade embedded itself in Damien’s leg.  Damien roared with the pain and Garrick struck the wall with a grunt.  Garrick landed on his back, the corners of his vision went black.

Garrick
rolled to his hands and knees quickly.  Pausing to gag as his stomach rolled.  He watched Damien pull the blade from his leg and toss it into the corner behind him.  Damien ripped a piece of his shirt off at the bottom, and quickly wrapped it around his thigh, to help control the bleeding.  The big man straightened, his eyes locked on Garrick.  Garrick staggered to his feet, the movement made him gag again, as he forced his eyes to stay focused on Damien.