Angie Arms - Flames series 04 (18 page)

Then his lips were
on hers again, even more gently than the last.  His finger inside her began to move again, slowly, and she could hear her own wetness.  Perhaps it was something she should be self conscious of, but she would ask him later when he was not building the need within her again.  He moved overtop her, his finger left her and he was pressing himself to her opening, as he took both her breasts in his hands.  His mouth claimed hers greedily, at the same time his fingers tugged gently on both her nipples, and he slid into her.  He paused as she felt him fill her opening, the pressure was painful, and suddenly she did not think she would like it.  He was big, and he would hurt her. 

But Roland’s lips kept gently stroking
hers, his fingers continued to play with her nipples, and she felt the desire building all over again.  His mouth dipped as his one hand held her breast, so his lips could close over it.  As he sucked it into his mouth she felt him push his way a little farther in.  She gritted her teeth.  It hurt so badly, until he continued to suckle her nipple and squeeze the other.  She felt the need, was this what desire was?  It was very raw, demanding, pleasurable, and almost barbaric.  Then his lips moved from the one to suck the other into his mouth, and he pressed a little farther in.  Again he worked her up, until she was moaning and gasping. 

He moved his face up next to hers
, so he could place his lips next to her ear.  Was there moisture on the cheek that pressed against hers?  “I’m sorry, but this is going to hurt, and there is nothing I can do about that.”

She did not have time to respond
, before he thrust himself deep.  It felt as if he ripped her open, and suddenly she was done.  She did not know it would hurt that bad.  It was excruciating as she felt him throb and stretch her to the point of nearly blinding pain.  He gently kissed her ear, her cheek.  His hand wiped the tear she did not know she had shed away, and then his mouth was on hers again.  It began all over, the gentle kisses, the slight stroke of his tongue, until the pain was forgotten, and the need was there again. 

When h
e began to move inside her, she felt the pressure as his large size stretched her, but the excruciating pain was gone.  What was beginning to occur was utopic.  Her body was building the same need, but he stretched her so much, and went so deeply, the need was mingled with the pain, until all she could think as he picked up his pace, was that it hurt so good.  She was bucking against him, crying his name, writhing and moaning, before she felt herself explode around him.  Quickly he withdrew, and she felt the heat of his seed spilling across her stomach. 

S
he was exhausted.  The moon marched across the sky, indicating a considerable amount of time passed, when it seemed only minutes.  She felt Roland leaving her, mumbling to himself, but she was too tired to make out his words.  She rolled to her side, and let oblivion take her.

Never had Emma dreamed she would leave her little stretch of woods let alone England, yet here she was in Normandy, standing beside Roland as they waited for the King to finally see them, after the request was sent three days before.  After the night Roland fulfilled her request, he was just as cold and unapproachable as ever.  A part of her was glad, but another part wanted more, and that part she did not understand at all.  She blamed it on the fear of the unknown.  It was her weakness she must overcome.  She was alone now, but it was for her father and uncle, and she would not fail them, whatever it took.

She spared a glance to Roland.  He stood tall and straight, his angular jaw and square chin like iron, his eyes steel
, as they stared at the door before them.  Though he did not move, she knew he saw her watching him.

“How did your wife die?” she asked
, turning to him suddenly.  She was not made of steel like this man next to her.  He was, after all, the man who was bringing her to the King.  He went so far as to dress her fit for a princess, at least that was how she felt, but Roland assured her that was far from the case.  The gown she wore was a shimmering blue fabric, the cloth more costly than anything she ever wore on her body.  She looked stunning before the mirror in the inn, where they were staying.

“The
King killed her.”

Nothing on his face changed
, and he did not hesitate to step forward as the doors swung open, not waiting to see if she followed.  She looked about herself, at all those people waiting to see the King.  All dressed in their rich clothes, a superior look on their faces.  There was no help here.  She sensed it.  Her knees quaking reluctantly, she followed him.

Roland was speaking
, but her mind was racing too fast to catch his words.  She felt the man next to her, the coldness so strong, she felt herself shiver.  He stood tall, at least as tall as the King before her.  He might be considered handsome, but her fear and the hatred she felt coming from Roland numbed her, before it terrified her, and she wanted nothing more than to flee back to her woods. 
It’s a little too late for that now
, she reminded herself.

The room grew
quiet, and she looked about herself and realized the King was speaking to her.  He repeated himself, the annoyance on his face sent fear racing up her spine, and though she heard his words, they did not make sense and her brain could not pick the words out to put them in logical order.

“Is she simple minded?” the King asked after a moment
, when he redirected his gaze to Roland.

Is he talking about me
, her mind asked in a panic.  Yet no words would form to come from her mouth.

“Yes
, she is,” Roland informed the King.  Emma’s mouth fell open and she wanted to protest but even her indignation wasn’t enough to overcome the fear that was eating away at any rational thought.

“It is no matter.  Thank you for bringing her here so we know of her existence.  You will see to her until I find her a husband.  I will hold a feast tonight in her honor
, and it should only take a day or two.”

“I thought I would return to England.  Sir Damien will be wondering what has kept me.”

“I have told you what I need of you,” the King snapped, and Emma’s eyes darted to Roland’s.  They were cold and hard as ice, and the man did not waver.  “Besides, Sir Damien and the Fenton Bastard have both been taken care of.  You will see to the lady’s safety, and then I will reward you, perhaps with a piece of property of your own.”

As she stared at Roland
, a tick began at the corner of his eye, and she instinctively knew it was raw anger that made it, yet he did not falter.  He turned quickly, and grabbing her hand, pulled her from the King’s presence, all the way back to the inn, without slowing his pace or saying a word.  Once inside the privacy of their double chamber he released her, and began pacing.

“That son-of-a-bitch!” he gritted out, shaking his head.  “He is going to grant me a piece of property?  That son-of-a-bitch!  I don’t want his damn land
, or his blessing.”  He ran his hands through his hair, pulling it in his frustration.  He let out another angry, frustrated moan, before dropping his hands and turning to look at her.

“I’m sim
ple minded?” she asked.  She long since got over the embarrassment of being looked upon as one with no intelligence, but she thought perhaps Roland needed a distraction.

“You weren’t exactly saying anything to make the King think otherwise.  No curtsy, no
, ‘thank you your majesty for allowing me in your presence’.”

“I have never been before a king.  Apparently it is something you are well versed in
, and should give me some lessons.”

“I’m sorry,” the man said
, turning to sink onto the edge of the small table set in the corner. 

“What?” she was not prepared for his apology
, was not even looking for one.

“I’m sorry for brin
ging you here.”

“You didn’t bring me, I came on my own, otherwise I wouldn’t be here.”

She watched him shake his head.  The anger was gone, and the sadness was back.  “He will do to you what he has done to the rest of us.”  She only stared at him as he studied her, his eyes going from sad to gentle.  “He will find a reason for your death, or a reason why you must suffer.  He does not spread joy and hope, only death and sorrow.”

Suddenly anger flared hot within her.  “Why must you tell me this?  I was much better off not knowing the King killed your wife
, or that he only brings death and sorrow.  Do you have any idea how afraid I am?  I grew up in a simple life, not learning to bow to the man who killed someone I loved with all my heart.  I don’t know if I can do this.”

Sympathy flooded from the man, or perhaps she only saw it in his eyes
, because nothing else changed.  “I will take you home.”

“You will take me home?  You will take me home?  God Roland, it’s a little too late for that now don’t you think?”

“Yes I do,” he replied simply, and she saw truth and regret in his blue depths.

Suddenly the
tears could not be stopped as she stood before this man, a stranger still, and fought them back.

“No, no, no.  Don’t do that,” he pleaded
, standing from his position.

She didn’t want Roland to see her like that, so vulnerable
, because she suddenly did feel simple minded.  She realized she tread too far and too deep into the situation, and now her only help was this stranger who was more broken than even Karen.  Karen went through the rest of her life knowing, as everyone else, that what lay inside her mind was a jumbled mess of confusion.  Roland suffered the same, yet he stood tall, and no one could begin to know what chaos warred inside him. 

The sob tore from her
, and turning, she fled to her own small chamber.

Chapter 10

Kinsey

“You cannot tell me what to do!”

“I will tie you to the gate until you see the ridiculousness of what you are saying!”  Cyrille’s face turned red, as he succumbed to a bout of coughing.

When
Lady Keri began to walk around him, he snaked a hand out and grabbed hold of her, his fingers tightening when she tried to pull away.  He knew he was hurting her, and that was the last thing he wanted to do, next to taking her back to Scotts Manor and angering his brother.

“Sir Halvor,” Keri said
, her face red with anger, jerking her arm free, as Cyrille straightened with one final cough, to stare up into the face of Garrick’s commander.  He was quite the intimidating figure atop his horse, a scowl written plainly across the big man’s face.

“What is happening?” Halvor asked
, swinging a leg over his horse’s withers, and sliding nimbly to the ground.  He crossed his arms over his chest, and planted his feet slightly apart.  Cyrille could not say he was a small man, but Halvor was much bigger, and now, as he took a formidable stance, he would be concerned for his own life if their leaders were not allies. 

“She ins
ists she is going back to Scotts Manor, despite the fact Damien will serve my head on a platter, if I allow her anywhere near the place,” Cyrille said, in an agitated whisper.

“I didn’t
ask you to go did I?” Keri hissed, crossing her arms over her chest.  She looked much like a petulant child, and Cyrille did not understand why Damien didn’t turn her over his knee and treat her like one. 

A sigh escaped from behind Cyrille’s hood. 

“You will not go alone,” Halvor told her calmly.

“Who do you think you are?” she asked, her eyes flashing anger.

“I am the Bastard’s commander,” he said calmly, in case she had truly forgotten.  Never did anyone dare disobey his orders.

She harrumphed, rolling her eyes.  “You do not scare me with that Bastard’s commander,” she said flippantly
, shaking her head at him.

Is she mocking me?
Cyrille read the incredulity of this thought cross the big man’s face.

“I know if either of you were to harm a hair on my head
, Damien would have you punished.  I suggest you let me go now, before you have his wrath to face.” 

Cyrille stiffened.  Unfortunately
, Keri was right, and neither of them would risk hurting her, but Halvor was seeing the merits of tying the woman to the gate.  Deciding she must have won the argument, Keri turned and moved toward the stable, her long brown hair casting off the lights of the waning evening light, as it moved with her determined strides. 

“You will stay here,” Halvor ordered, his voice did not rise
, but it was strong and certain, not to be disobeyed. 

Keri turned slowly, propping her hands on her hips.  Again
, her head bobbed and in a mimicking voice she taunted, “You will stay here.”  Then she scoffed and strolled toward the stable again.

Halvor’s jaw was hanging open and
he quickly closed it.  Women had no concept of rank and following orders.  How did they think people were organized and battles were won?  Everything in life had rank, and everyone had someone to answer to.  It was the way of things, but this woman seemed unaware she was to obey Cyrille, at the very least, since her husband left him responsible for her.

“You men,” Ryann chuckled
, as she walked past them in the direction of the stable.  Within a few minutes of disappearing inside, she reappeared with Keri.  They walked past the men and Keri cast them a scornful look, but said not a word, as the two women went back inside the hall.

Cyrille watched Halvor straighten in his chair and glare at Keri.  They sat in the hall, long after the last meal of the day was consumed. 

“It’s not that I am against your plan,” Keri said.  “You all are yet to name any armies that will be sent to help defend us.  I will not allow Damien to stand alone.”

“Damien has an entire army at his disposal,” Cyrille tried to explain, for the thousandth time.

“And either the K
ing’s men or Garrick are on their way to kill him,” Keri said, her voice taking on the frustrated, angry tone that would have her ready to do something drastic again.

“That is why we cannot be certain of anyone’s commitment to Damien,” Halvor said.  “Many woul
d buy a chance at fighting the King’s army, but not Garrick’s.”

“I still have a few lords to ask.  I will leave tomorrow to find them,” Cyrille said.  Surely Keri would know what a commitment he was offering
, by exposing himself to so many.

“And I will go wait with Damien for your return,” Keri said.

“You will not,” Halvor said.

“I am not one of your soldiers to be ordered about.  I am going
, and I will go alone, so you two cowards will not have to answer to my husband.”

The two men stared at each other

“I will go too,” Ryann chimed in.  Halvor’s head swung quickly to the small blond woman sitting next to Keri.  “If Garrick does arrive at Scotts Manor, perhaps I can talk some sense into him.”

If anyone else
made such a statement, Halvor would laugh, but Garrick’s wife was the only one who could possibly stop the man from what he was intent on doing.  But, if Halvor allowed Ryann to be where there was guaranteed to be a battle, Garrick would kill him.

“I will take Keri back to Scotts Manor and see what is happening there.  If there is need of your assistance Countess
, I will return for you.”

“Very well,” Ryann said
, her blue eyes twinkling, and Cyrille knew in that instant Garrick’s bride was as cunning as her husband.  The Lady Keri now had a voluntary escort to Scotts Manor. Cyrille wondered if perhaps Ryann was manipulating the entire evening, to get Halvor to come to that decision.

“I guess we
better get some sleep,” Halvor said.  It was evident he was irritated, but Cyrille did not think he was aware of how well he was played.  The big man rose and stood next to Keri, until she stood from her chair, and together the two of them made their way to their chambers.

“That was well done Countess,” Cyrille said, taking the opportunity to prop
his leg on the chair Halvor just vacated.  His back and hip screamed at the movement, but within a moment the muscles there relaxed a little. 

“I
hoped no one would catch on,” she said, in her voice that still sounded like it came from a child.  Envy began to wash over him, and he quickly pushed it away.  Garrick was not a man he ever wanted to be envious of. 

“Halvor did not.  I take it Lady Keri put you up to it.”

“No, she would have insisted she did not need his escort.  I could not allow her to leave here alone, but I did not think me telling her that would stop her, any more than you two telling her that.”

Cyrille chuckled
, knowing she was correct in that assumption.

“The hour grows late,” she said
, with a sigh.  “I have promised the children a picnic tomorrow before the weather grows too cold.”  She stood and moved past him, pausing at his shoulder.  She placed a hand on it, and he looked up at her.  She smiled down at him, despite what he looked like without his hood.  “Thank you for keeping it a secret,” she bent and kissed him on his forehead, before walking away.

Cyrille remained in the seat until his back began to spasm
, and he got up and began pacing about the keep.  He had to get away from all those he cared about.  He felt he no longer had a choice in that, because he wanted their lives, their love, even if it was just for a day.  It was maddening to watch everyone’s lives go on around him, the way they fell in love, the way their women looked up at them.  It was a daily reminder that his life was shattered, the pieces blown away on the four winds, to never be pieced together.  He would go find help for his brother, from there he did not know what to do.

Later Cyrille
stood on the wall, looking out over the shadows that made up Garrick’s home.  How could Marcus give up a place such as this, his title and power to a bastard?  Cyrille could not fathom such a thing.  At least if Cyrille had his own property he could go to it, throw everyone else off it, and live his life in peaceful solitude.  With no one near, he could not be reminded of what once was, and what could have been.  Now all that was left to him was a life of wondering, from one place to another, because he would never fit in.

Of course Scotts Manor would always be his home
, and he might return there from time to time, but he stopped being a good soldier when his body became mangled.  Now he was slow and unbalanced.  He could not wield a sword long, before it hurt all the way down his arm and in his back.  He could not mount a horse with any speed, usually requiring a block to get his foot up high enough.  No, he thought, as he looked up at the stars, he was not a soldier, not a lover, he was nothing.  He wanted to scream at the heavens, but he could not even do that. 

By dawn he was riding from the safety of the walls, choosing to tell no one good bye, for that would be nearly as difficult as saying it to his brother. 

~   ~   ~

Scotts Manor

The cool dampness awoke him with a start.  When he jerked, a gasp escaped Lilly and she lurched backward, out of his reach.  In her hand was a wet cloth dripping onto the wooden floor.  Garrick tried to smile at her, but he did not know if he accomplished it.  It wasn’t that long ago he learned of the things in life that would make a man smile, so still felt foolish when his face twisted upward.  Apparently the girl recognized it for what it was, and moved closer to clean his face with the cloth.  Garrick watched her and knew somewhere in this little girl’s past, there must have been someone who cared enough about her to do the same for her.

He swallowed, feeling the dryness in his throat, clogging it
.  “Ale,” he croaked, and the girl nodded, leaving the room.  Within a moment she was back, the tankard of ale in her hand.  Garrick tried to lift his arm, but the pain shot through his back and shoulders.  Seeing his pain, the girl moved closer and tipped the glass for him to drink from. 

“Thank you,” he said
, having his fill.  She sat the vessel down, and went back to wiping him down, his neck this time, and he knew she already completed the extent of her knowledge in assisting the injured.

He needed to get up and go to Damien and finish it.  He turned his head and saw Damien’s head rested against the wal
l and his eyes were closed.  Was he dead?

“Someone else might be thirsty,” Damien said, his eyes not opening.

“I came here to kill you,” Garrick replied, the idea of giving his enemy drink was ridiculous.

“And a bang-up job you have done,” Damien retorted
, but still did not open his eyes. 

Garrick studied him for a moment
. “Give him some ale,” he finally said.  Clearly the girl was of the same opinion as Garrick, but left to do his bidding.  When she returned, she took the ale to him and sat it next to him, before scurrying away.  Damien opened his eyes and lifted the cup to his lips, as he studied Garrick.

“What now?” he finally asked
, draining the cup and sitting it in the floor beside him. 

“I guess it’s down to who can get up first,” Garrick said, knowing it would not be him.  He wasn’t sure if he could feel his legs. 

The girl rushed to the doorway, stood there a moment, peering out, and then ran back to Garrick.  She pressed herself against him, nearly in his lap, making his wounds scream as she made a whimpering sound.  Someone was coming.  He tried to push her away, but she clung to him, and he realized he did not have the strength to protect them. 

Then Keri was in the doorway.  Her eyes fell on him and the girl first
, before travelling to Damien.  Her husband was beginning to say something to her, but it was cut off by her shouted curse, then she flew across the room at Garrick. 
What woman would choose battle over seeing to her husband’s injuries?
  The woman slammed into Garrick and began pounding him with fists that landed each blow accurately and powerfully. 

Lilly
tried to protect him, but Keri ignored the child who was likewise using her fists and feet to try to drive her away.  As suddenly as her attack began, it ended, and Garrick raised his head to see Halvor, with his arms wrapped around Keri, pinning her arms at her sides, and lifting her off the floor.  She flailed about, until Halvor managed to shake her twice.

“See to your husband,” he demanded
, before sitting her back on the floor and releasing her.  Garrick could not believe it when her eyes fell on him again. 

“Keri,” the sharp command came from Damien
, and still she hesitated before turning away.  Garrick breathed a sigh of relief, ashamed he could do nothing to defend himself against a woman.  Then she was crooning over the big man propped against the wall, and in the same breaths cursing Garrick for the injuries she was looking at.