The Crimson Castle (20 page)

“You bastard!”
Gabriel shouted hoarsely, the
agony of his failure seizing his heart, far worse that the effects of the
hemlock potion. Images of his beautiful
Evie
swam
before his eyes and he saw how
Tibald
would break
her. How she would become a shell of a woman, just as he had a man.

Unseen by Gabriel, some guards had entered at the sounds of the battle
and
Tibald
motioned to them. “Put him in the tower
until the ceremony and then bring him to the church. Make him uncomfortable!”

As they dragged Gabriel away,
Tibald
laughed,
“Today is going to be a fine day, Gabe!”

***

Trembling hands had washed the evidence of the night away as she waited
in her chambers. Mary no doubt noticed Evelyn’s melancholy mood as she helped
dress her for the morning but assumed it was due to the wedding. It was common
knowledge that Evelyn was no willing bride.

She waited, feeling as though she were stood on an abyss, powerless to
take control of her future. The rebellious part of her urged her to go to
Gabriel, to run with him or to even have a hand in their murderous plot, but he
had insisted she stay and duty thread its way strongly through her, knowing she
could not abandon
Beldersert
to the unknown.

Pacing between the window and the door, she waited for a shout, some
commotion, any sign that the deed had been done, and she imagined she would be
able to watch him flee. In her more fevered imaginings she envisaged him coming
to her door and sweeping her away with him but she chastised herself for such
fanciful notions.

A bang on the door jolted her out of her thoughts and for one blissful
moment she believed it may be him. As it swung open abruptly, Evelyn’s spirits
plummeted.

“Ah, my beautiful bride.
I trust you are well
rested for this happy day.”

She could do nothing but nod, the gnawing unease she felt leaching into
every crevice of her body.

“I have wedding gift for you.”

A smile slid across Lord
Tibald’s
face and
Evelyn shuddered knowing her worst fears may have just been realised.

Dread gripped her but she hoped there was some reason, some other
explanation as to why
Tibald
was not dead. Attempting
to keep her composure, not willing to jump to conclusions, she returned his
smile and took his extended hand as he led her through the castle.

 
“How kind of you, my lord.”

 She swiftly realised he was leading her to the main tower and
fear pulled at her as she attempted to strengthen her resolve. He became
rougher as they ascended the steep, winding stairs, fairly hauling her along,
as she stumbled on the steps. The stairs narrowed as they neared the donjon, a
defensive design meaning potential intruders would be unable to unsheathe their
swords and allowing the room to need little protection.

A guard stood at the top.
Tibald
motioned him
to open it and with a gruff “Move!” the guard stepped to one side.

The acrid stench of metal hung in the air as
Tibald
pushed the door open and Evelyn’s stomach lurched as she realised it was the
odour of blood.

  “My lord, why have you brought me here?” she asked, hoping her
alarm was not evident on her face.

He grinned at her, bearing his teeth as if he were a tiger, ready to
pounce. “Ah, ah, we don’t want to spoil the surprise do we?”

He pushed her in and she half expected him to slam the door behind her
but he followed her in. As her eyes adjusted to the dimness within the tower,
she gasped as the recognised the occupant manacled to the wall, arms spread
wide almost as if he were a sacrifice upon a cross. Sat upon a filthy layer of
rushes, there were no other comforts within the cell. Just the reek of death
sat in the moist walls of this perdition.

Evelyn gasped, “Gabriel!”

She ran over to him, lifting his face with her hands. He was shirtless,
drenched in a malodourous mixture of perspiration, blood and filth. His
unresponsive eyes looked back at her from a pale face and for a moment Evelyn
wasn’t sure he knew it was her. He muttered her name through dry, cracked lips
and her heart wrenched at the painful sound.

“What have you done to him?” She turned to
Tibald
in anger.

He smirked. “Oh, do not worry yourself, he’s not dying. Not yet,
anyway.” He chuckled to himself. “Pray tell, Lady Evelyn, what exactly was it
that drove you into the arms of this pathetic excuse for a man.”

She glared at him, loathing clear in her face. “He is more of a man
than you will ever be! You pray on the weak and needy. There is no pride to be
had in that. You have only ever proved yourself a coward.”

Tibald
gave an exaggerated sigh, all the
while watching her obvious distress with amusement. “You will have to learn to
curb your tongue woman, when we are wed. Which puts me in mind of your gift, a
hanging might be a nice way to celebrate our first day of marriage, do you not
think?”

Evelyn looked at him in horror before turning back to Gabriel, clasping
his head in her hands and laying it against her chest as if he were a child,
trying to offer some form of comfort through his pain.

“Did you think me a fool, Lady Evelyn?” His eyes narrowed. “I watched
you both, your longing looks…” he sneered in distaste.

He shoved Evelyn away from Gabriel so she sprawled onto the dirty
ground and gave Gabriel a blinding blow around the face. He merely grunted at
the blow as Evelyn scrabbled to her feet, a sob wrenching from her.
Tibald
grabbed Gabriel’s jaw in a punishing grip and
brought his face towards him, hissing and spitting.

 “I saved your life, you pathetic little worm. And this is how you
repay me?”

Evelyn groped her way across the floor in an attempt to reach Gabriel
but
Tibald
seized her wrist and, grabbing her hair
with the other hand, he thrust her face into Gabriel’s view. She caught a
flicker of distress in his eyes and she wondered how
Tibald
had brought such a strong warrior so low. Gabriel was a skilled
fighter, that
much she knew, and with such a passion behind
him this morning she found it hard to believe this was the same man.

“You think you deserve a woman such as this? You were barely worthy of
licking my boots, yet I gave you power and position…and you could have had so
much more if you had not betrayed me.” He huffed, “Now I shall have to find
someone to replace you.”

He gave a laugh and he gripped her upper arm so hard that it forced a
yelp from her lips.

“No mind, ‘tis a sweet consolation I have here.”

He hauled her by her hair and pressed a hard kiss to her lips. She
fought to pull away and succeeded briefly, attempting to make her way towards Gabriel,
but he grabbed her again and, with a strong arm about her waist, dragged her
away as she screamed Gabriel’s name.

With no strength left, his body still numb from the poison, Gabriel
could not even shout out to her as he watched
Tibald
haul her away. All he could do was mutter her name as he tipped his head back
and closed his eyes, wishing he had not failed her.

***

Evelyn was flung callously into her chambers where a warm bath was
awaiting her, carefully prepared by Mary. She made a small sound of shock when
she saw her mistresses dishevelled appearance, dirt and blood on her clothes
and skin. Seeing the look of devastation in Evelyn’s eyes she didn’t say
anything, just put a hand to her arm and helped her slowly undress.

Evelyn rubbed at a smear of blood on her breast where Gabriel’s head
had been briefly pressed and she looked at it on her finger tips with a strange
sense of detachment. Lowering
herself
into the wooden
tub, she laid back and closed her eyes, the image of Gabriel’s ravaged face etched
in her mind. A quiet sense of resolution settled within her as she realised
what she would have to do.

Mary helped Evelyn change into her pale blue wedding gown, the
samite
garment more luxurious than any other gown she had
worn before. The sleeves were tight around her arms before spilling out to
almost touch the floor, and a girdle of gold links and jewels sat on her hips.

Mary studied her mistress’s face, as she tightened the lacings, mayhap
expecting tears or some sign of emotion on her face. Evelyn’s face remained
impassive as Mary attempted to converse while she weaved orange blossoms into
her hair and placed a floral wreath on her head. With a small sigh, Mary
finished and left, shutting the door quietly.

Evelyn stared at her image in the polished metal mirror, acknowledging
grimly that she looked fully that part of the blushing bride. To anyone else,
her expression might have just been that of a nervous young maid but the hollow
look in her eyes had everything to do with love and little to do with her
betrothal.

Rummaging through her things, she pulled out a small jewelled dagger
that she had stashed amongst her belongings before they had travelled here.
Tucking the dagger into her bouquet, she gave her reflection a small, satisfied
smile.

***

The procession to the church seemed to Evelyn to take place in a haze,
her detached mind barely registering the steps her feet were taking. Many of
the locals had turned out to watch her progress and they used the wedding to
alleviate some of their miseries, enjoying the celebratory atmosphere. She was
highly aware of her hand upon
Tibald’s
and itched to
tear her hand away, but the thought of Gabriel’s battered face strengthened her
resolve and forced her leaden feet to continue forwards.

It was a sunny day, the ground barren and dry through lack of rain in
the past days, and Evelyn was grateful she did not have to trudge through mud
in her delicate silk slippers. Every inch the noble bride, the onlookers gasped
and sighed at the sight of her extravagant gown and flowing golden hair. She
held herself tall, her regal stance disguising the nervousness combined with
determination that fluttered through her.

Nearing the church porch, she managed to turn to her betrothed with a
smile as the priest greeted them. Gabriel stood to one side, shackled, gagged
and barely standing, pinned up by a guard on either side. They had at least
covered the evidence of his beating with a clean shirt but he was still a gut
churning sight to behold. If the visiting nobles thought this odd, they showed
no sign of it, probably more used to
Tibald’s
brutality than she was. He looked at her with a look of pure defeat and her
heart slammed in pain. Determination replaced fear and she gave him what she
hoped was a reassuring smile.

Easing her small dagger from the bouquet, she turned to
Tibald
and pressed the tip to her chest, as both Gabriel
and
Tibald
looked at her in shock. A chorus of
murmurs and gasps rippled through the crowd but Evelyn ignored them, a defiant
glint in her eyes.

“What in Gods teeth do you think you are doing, Evelyn?!”
Tibald
shouted and grabbed at her.

She smiled up at him and stepped back out of his reach. “Let Gabriel
go.”

“What?” he
guffawed.

“You heard me.” She raised her brow at him.

“Or you shall what…? Kill yourself? I believe you have not the courage,
Lady Evelyn.”

“Indeed? Do you want to wait and find out?” She pressed the knife to
her breast and blood beaded at the tip. She didn’t feel any pain, just gloried
in the shock written over
Tibald’s
face.

Gabriel tried to shout her name but it came out as nothing more than a
muffled sound, his mouth still gagged. He pulled at the shackles, wanting to
run to Evelyn, to stop her madness, but the guards held him fast and he was
still weakened from the poison.

Evelyn looked at
Tibald
with satisfaction,
noting his tense demeanour. “If I die, my land will fall to the crown and it
will be lost to you. Let Gabriel go and I will marry you and you shall have all
you wanted.”

“Apart from the death of a disloyal servant…”
Tibald
snarled, looking at Gabriel with hatred.

Evelyn looked at him expectantly, knife still held firmly to her
breast, the same serene smile across her face.

Tibald
clenched his jaw and glowered at her.
“Very well,” he said tersely.

Evelyn grinned in triumph. “Release him then.”

“Not until we are married.”

“How do I know you will let him go?”

“How do I know you will still go through with the wedding once I
release him?” he countered.

“I see that neither of us holds trust in the other so I have in mind a deal.
I will say my vows and then you will release him. If you do not, you shall not
consummate this marriage. You will never have my body and thus our union will
never be legal.”

He stepped closer to her now, his face warped by anger. “I could just
take your body.”

“I would die first,” she said resolutely.  “I promise you that if
any harm comes to Gabriel, I will find a way to die. You have me at my word,
release him and I will willingly come to your bed.”

Evelyn kept her grip on the dagger, her stance as cool and as calm as
if she were not bargaining with her life. Purpose gave her courage and for the
first time since her arrival at
Etone
, she no longer
feared
Tibald
.

Tibald
gritted his teeth. “So be it. I will
release him upon the exchange of our vows, you have my word.”

Evelyn nodded. “And he is to remain unharmed.”

Tipping his head back as he eyed her with displeasure, he reluctantly
agreed, “Aye, he will remain unharmed.”