Knight of Darkness (5 page)

Narishka shook her head. “We’ll let him heal a bit. Right now he’s so sore that he’s most likely numb to any more pain. Besides, he’s got enough magick left to make himself feel better.” She stopped as if considering that thought for a moment. “I wonder why it is that my spell didn’t remove all of his powers? Perhaps I should have made it stronger. Although I gave it enough of a charge that it should have depleted even the Kerrigan. Amazing really. I guess I underestimated his strength. No more of that, eh?”

Merewyn was aghast at Narishka’s coldness, but she made sure she didn’t show it. She wanted to ask her how she could do such a thing, but she already knew the answer. Narishka was evil to the center of her dark soul. She didn’t care for anyone. Really. If Morgen were to fall from power tomorrow, Narishka would just as easily serve
another. So long as she could spew her venomous cruelty, she was happy. She didn’t care who it was against or even who she aligned herself with.

Narishka looked at her and tsked. “We’ll have to hide you for a bit.”

“Hide me?”

“Yes. To look as you do now is to invite nothing but trouble from the others. And the fact that you’re a virgin…too tempting. There are many dark spells that call for the sacrifice of beautiful virgins. It would do me no good to have you sliced open right now for someone’s play for power. And it would take me too long to replace you with another human. So, hiding it shall be.”

Before Merewyn could even open her mouth to speak, she found herself alone in a windowless, doorless room. “Mistress!” she called, but no one answered.

She felt her way around in the darkness, only to learn she was in a very small, empty room with no blanket, pillow, or anything else. Once again, she was at Narishka’s mercy, and she hated it.

Shrieking, she slammed her hand against the black wall as her eyes strained to see something. Anything. But it was hopeless. Narishka had left her with nothing.

That lying bitch!

Merewyn slid to the floor as her ragged emotions tore through her. Anger, hurt, hopelessness. Yet underneath that, she realized that as bad as this was, she was still better off than Varian. At
least she wasn’t chained to the wall for their cruel pleasure.

And with that came a wave of despair so large that it rolled over her and left her breathless.

“There’s no way out,” she whispered, her chest aching with the truth. Magda had been right. Narishka had no intention of letting her leave. Ever. She was going to die here. Somehow that bitch would trick her again and keep her in this land of viciousness.

“No, she won’t,” she swore to the darkness with angry conviction. She was smarter now than she’d been as a girl in Mercia. Having lived with Narishka all these centuries, she’d learned much from her mistress. She knew this game, and by all that was holy, or not, she was going to win her freedom. No matter what it took, she would leave this place and never look back. She didn’t care who she had to sacrifice or what she had to do.

“I won’t ever be a fool again.”

Two days later

“It’s no good, my lady. So long as his armor’s in place,
there’s not much else we can do to him.”

Varian took pride in the scream of frustration his mother let out at the mandrake’s words.

She coldcocked the mandrake hard enough to send him straight to the ground before she raked her nails down Varian’s swollen cheek. He hissed from the pain but refused to make any other sound in response.

Her eyes snapping fire, she turned on the other mandrake, who cringed in fear of what she’d do to him. Cupping himself, he took three steps back and had to stop as he collided with the wall. It was enough to make Varian laugh.

Which only made her angrier. “Fetch a crowbar, jaws of life, can opener, I don’t care what you have
to do, I want that armor off him!” she ordered the one standing mandrake.

The dark-haired mandrake nodded quickly before he ran from the room and Narishka’s reach while the blond mandrake was still in a fetal position in the corner, cupping himself.

Varian spat the blood from his mouth onto the floor. “What’s the matter, mum? Is my torture getting to you?”

She backhanded him.

He laughed at her anger. “You know. They’re right with their saying. There’s nothing sweeter than the loving touch of a mother.”

She grabbed the sledgehammer from the floor where the immobilized mandrake had dropped it and slammed it into his stomach with enough force to lift him off his feet. Varian felt the blow all the way to his bones as his body was jarred by it. Still he refused to cry out or beg for mercy even though it was all he could do to breathe he hurt so badly. Every gasp, every bone. All he wanted was for this to stop.

His mother shrieked again. “Why won’t you bend?”

Because it was what everyone expected of him. His father, his brother, every warrior in Avalon. Hell, even Arthur had expected him to side with his mother and Morgen at some point. There were times when Merlin, too, looked at him as if she were waiting for him to turn.

But he would never do that.

Even if his own conviction wasn’t so set, the fact that everyone expected it would be enough to keep him on the path of light.

He would never prove them right by joining ranks with the Adoni and Morgen.

Varian hissed as he felt something biting into his back as a grayling tried to pry the armor free. “It’s like it’s skin or something, my lady.”

His mother cursed him as she realized he was correct. That’s exactly what his armor was, and it was why it hurt so badly whenever they tried to remove it.

Her cheeks mottled by her fury, she threw the sledgehammer into the corner. “There has to be a spell to weaken this. Mandrake, grayling, withdraw!”

They quickly left him alone with his mother. She buried her hand in his hair and jerked his head up until he was looking at her. He could taste the blood that was running from his lips and nose, smell the sweat of his body from the hours of grueling torture.

Her eyes were dark with curiosity, and they lacked any compassion for him. “Why would you rather I beat you than simply do what I ask?”

He gave her a taunting smile. “Because it is ever my goal to piss you off.”

She snapped his head back before she let go of his hair. “Why I bargained for you, I’ll never know.”

“Simple, mum. You wanted a bouncing baby boy to love and take care of you in your old age.”

She sneered at him. “I should have drowned you when you were born.”

And he returned that gesture with the same degree of disgust. “I should have been so lucky.”

That got him a nice slap in the face before she stalked out of the room and left him there to hang. Literally.

Varian let out a slow, tired breath as he stared at the fresh and dried blood on the floor. His blood. It made him wonder what his father had gone through at Morgen’s hands before she’d killed him, too. Not that he cared. It was more morbid curiosity than anything.

“What did you do?”

He glanced up at Merewyn’s soft voice as she stood in the doorway with a look of abject horror on her beautiful face. “Bled mostly. Why?”

She grimaced at the sight of his face as she drew nearer. He could only imagine what he must look like to her. Not that it mattered. He wasn’t exactly in the mood to woo a woman anyway. Rather, he was basically worthless.

What else is new?

Still, he knew it wrong to look forward to her visits. Especially since he knew who and what she really was, and yet he couldn’t stop himself from wanting to see her every day. She was the only bright spot his mother had allowed him…which was his mother’s intent.

Merewyn placed her tray on the floor before she picked up the cool cloth and held it against the worst of the cuts on Varian’s face. Four rows of jagged welts went from his temple to chin. It looked as if one of the mandrakes had drawn his claw down his face. She couldn’t help but ache at the sight of it.

He sucked his breath in sharply at the touch of the cloth that must have stung deeply. “I don’t need your kindness, Merewyn.”

“You need someone’s. Perhaps your own might do you some good.”

“Is that supposed to make sense?”

“Yes,” she said sharply. For some reason, his stubbornness angered her. Why wouldn’t he just do what they wanted and end this? “Give them what they want so you can go free.”

He snorted at that, then grimaced as if a sharp pain had gone through him. “Would you sell out someone for your freedom?”

She looked down at his words, unable to respond. The answer made her feel ill. “They’re going to kill you, Varian.”

His face was stoic as those vibrant green eyes captured her gaze. They held a passion and fire that was fathomless and surprising given his current situation. “We all die, one way or another. It’s how we live that matters.”

Even so, she didn’t understand what allowed him to stand strong against such brutality. “What
matters to you so much that you would endure this pain for it?”

He didn’t respond.

“Tell me?” she asked as she moved the cloth to wipe away the blood from his lips. “Is it friendship?”

“No.”

“Love?”

He gave a bitter laugh at that. “I don’t even know what that is.”

“Then what?” She pulled back to stare at him. “What is so dear to you that this”—she gestured at his mangled body—“is trivial in comparison?”

“I don’t know,” he said in a quiet tone.

She shook her head in disbelief, then narrowed her eyes at him. “You don’t know, and yet you bleed for it?”

He gave her a gimlet stare that froze her to the spot. “Is there not something you would bleed for?”

“No,” she said fervently. “Nothing. Why should I? No one would ever bleed for me.”

One corner of his mouth turned up in a mocking smile. “Then we’re the same, you and I.”

“How so?”

“No one would ever bleed for me either.”

Was that supposed to make sense? “Then why suffer this?”

Again she was stung by the intensity of emotions that shone so brightly in his eyes. “Because
I won’t be what my father was. I won’t turn against my oath. Not for anything.”

She didn’t agree with him, but at least that made some sense. “Then you bleed for honor.”

“I have no honor.”

“Then you bleed for nothing.”

“And you would bleed for nothing, either.”

She dropped the cloth and clenched her hands in frustration at him. “Don’t twist my words around. That’s not what I meant.”

“I know.”

Unable to stand the scrutiny of his gaze and the sting of her own conscience, she started for the door.

“Merewyn, wait.”

She paused at his voice and turned to face him again. “Yes?”

His gaze was sharp as if he were measuring her worth before he answered. “I…” He glanced to the floor as his voice broke off.

“You?” she prompted.

Once again he met her gaze and held it. “I need a favor, if you don’t mind.”

A favor. There was something no one had asked her for in centuries. Here in Camelot they only ordered her about. Favors were for fools. Surely Varian of all people knew that.

But her curiosity got the better of her, and she wanted to know what a man like this would ask of her. “What is this favor?”

“Could you loosen the laces of my breastplate so that I could breathe a little easier?”

Merewyn hesitated. She knew from Narishka that her Adoni mistress had been trying for days to get his armor from him with no success. Varian had kept it well in place and taunted her with it. “You would trust me?”

“No. But I can’t loosen it myself and I know better than to ask my mother for help.”

He was certainly right about that, and if she removed it from him, Narishka would reward her. Greatly. Maybe she’d even release her early…

Merewyn took a step forward, then paused again as she imagined the sight of her removing his armor and leaving him bare for their torture. They would be even more merciless, and he would have no protection from them at all.

None.

Do it! Narishka would be pleased beyond measure.

She saw herself as she’d been in Mercia…dressed in a beautiful gown with noblemen vying for a smile from her. In her mind, she imagined the world she’d left behind. The beauty. The warmth.

The color.

Here the only color to be found was bloodred.

And eyes so green, they practically glowed.

Merewyn winced at that. She glanced to the blood at Varian’s feet and hated herself for what she was about to do. Her spine stiff, she lifted her head. “I can’t.”

He frowned at her. “Why not?”

She hesitated a moment before she did something she hadn’t done in centuries. She told the honest truth even though it would cause her harm. “Because I might remove it if I did.” And with that, she left the room.

Varian stared at the closed door for endless minutes as Merewyn’s words echoed in his ears. So she wasn’t completely trustworthy.

At least she had the temerity to admit it, and she hadn’t hurt him. That was actually a first. Not that he would have allowed her to loosen his armor anyway. He’d just wanted to know what she’d say.

If she’d try to remove it.

Perhaps she wasn’t his foe after all. Or perhaps she’d seen it for the test it’d been and was smarter than that. There was never anyone to really trust. He knew that. Everyone he’d ever let inside his defenses had only used it as a chance to hurt him. His father, Galahad, Dafyn, even Merlin.

And speaking of the latter, he’d been trapped here for days now, and no one had been sent from Avalon to check on his health. If he were anyone else, Merlin would have been calling down every double agent she had to help the member in trouble.

But none of them were worth jeopardizing for him.

That was all right though. He didn’t want to be
in debt to anyone else. This was just another day in his life. Another humiliation.

Another pain in his ass…back, shoulder…hell even his eyelids hurt.

Closing his eyes, he did what he’d always done when his life sucked, he dreamed himself away from here. He imagined a place of solitude and peace.

More than that, he could feel the gentle touch of a woman’s hand on his cheek. She’d always been faceless and formless in the past, but not this time.

This time she had long dark hair that fell in ringlets to her waist, and she held beautiful amber-tinged eyes that called him insane for enduring this.

And for once she had a name. One he dare not trust.

Dreams were ever evil. More men had fallen because of them than anything else, and he certainly wasn’t stupid enough for that.

Sucking his breath in, he summoned his magick and used it to knock out as many of the dents in his armor as he could before his mother’s spell weakened his power again and left him with nothing.

Tomorrow he would get rid of Merewyn and her kindness. That was the first step. The next would be to gain his freedom.

Or at the very least, his death.