The Lethal Flame (Flame Series) (12 page)

He felt her still and she spent a great deal of time deliberating on her dilemma.  At no point could she release him and still maintain the upper hand.  Together they could not retrieve the key because despite her present circumstance she was still chained to the wall.  Slowly the chain eased from around his neck and he gained some joy in knowing she would not kill him for pure malice sake.  Defeated she sprung away.  Quickly he gained his feet and turned on her.  She stood her body erect, unmindful of her nudity.  The Lady Keri looked positively furious as she glared from him to the key that was out of her reach.

What a fool she was turning him into.  Angry strides took him to the table where he grabbed his dagger and turned back to the rebel.  “Do you want me to kill you?” he asked moving to her.  He stood in front of her, her chain still wrapped around her wrists and he realized he had underestimated her. 

“You should have when you took Langley you cowardly bastard!” she spat at him.  She lunged at him, the chain raised and he knew her intent.  He grabbed the middle of the raised chain and twisted it in his hand, turning her small frame in the process and slammed her chest into the wall.  He felt the air whoosh from her lungs as he pressed her hard, driving his knee between her legs.  He could feel her quaking body under him, her arms extended above her head, held their by the chain, her legs spread unable to find purchase to fight. 

“Do you yield?” he asked in her ear, the tip of his knife pressed into the side of her neck ready to spill her blood. 

“Never!” she declared trying to push away.

He slung his dagger toward the bed to free the hand he brought around her neck, his fingers moved up to grip her chin and he pulled her head back toward him.

“If you do not yield you will die.”

A wicked tinkling laugh escaped her.  “I do not fear death.  I welcome death over you and your king,” she declared.

He moved his hand down her neck, squeezing its smallness that would be so easy to snap.  Down across her collarbone, on down to a breast he cupped in his hand.  Her breath hissed on intake and he felt her body quivering with all the rage she could not expend.  He kneaded it, pressing her back against him and she let out a shriek of frustrated outrage.  “Yield.”

“Never,” she declared between clenched teeth.  His fingers stroked across her nipple and he felt it peak.  He tightened his grip on the chain, unconsciously pulling it tighter, raising her arms.  He left the one breast to mold his hand to the other as if that was what his hand had been made for and she drew in a gasp followed by a moan as his fingers brushed over that nipple bringing it to life.

“Do you yield?”

“No,” she said but her voice sounded lost in despair.

His hand left her breast to move between them and it took only a moment to free himself from his braies.  Guiding himself between her legs he felt the warmth he so wanted to plunge into.

“Yield,” he demanded slamming the chain and her hands into the wall.

“No,” she said and he heard the sadness in her voice.  His hand came up to grip her waist and he pulled her back so she was bent forward and he had clear access to all that his thoughts had been consumed by.  “If you do this you will be no better than Bryson,” she said and he heard the tears in her voice.

Of all the things she could have said that would not matter those words stopped him cold.  He had done many things but the last thing he wanted anyone to think of him was that he was no better than her disgusting husband.  He released her hip, covered himself then let her hands go free as he moved quickly from her reach.  Coward.  He chastised himself.  She is a rebel who is supposed to be dead by now so why couldn’t he do it?  She was his weakness and if he was wise he would slit her throat now and be done with it.

Instead he went to his tunic and pulled it on before he blew out the candle by the bed.  He strolled to the table, extinguishing a wall sconce as he went.  He stopped before her, the candle light flickering against the deep shadows of her corner.  All that was left was the candle on the table and the hearth on the other side of the large chamber, the wall outcropping blocked most of its light and with the clouds covering the moon the candle on the table was the last remaining light in her dark corner.

“Give me the candle Keri,” he demanded, holding his hand out.

She scowled at him, whether from his informal address or his demand.  “I will not,” she stated firmly, grabbing the candle from the floor and backing into the corner.

“You attacked me, in clear disregard of our agreement.”

“We have no agreement,” she yelled at him.  “You keep me chained here like some animal.  You’ve taken my children, destroyed my home and left me with nothing yet you still demand I yield to your command.  I will not,” she declared standing tall, her face red with her anger, her eyes flashing like dark diamonds in all her fierce glory.  “You kiss me and ask me if I enjoy it,” her voice grew louder, fiercer.  “You touch me and ask me to yield.  What kind of whore would that make me Sir Damien,” she asked fairly spitting out his name with disdain.  “I could care less what you make me feel because you are my enemy, and I will not yield.”  With the last word of her near scream dying off she hurled the candle at him.  Bouncing it off his chest he numbly caught it and stared at her cocking his head to the side.

Not yet finished with her fury she raised her arms out to the side.  “Do you want to look at me?  Here, take a look,” she said slowly spinning giving him a good look at the flesh he had already become so familiar with in the short time she had come into his life.  “Do you expect me to grovel at your feet?  Do you expect me to do everything you say and be happy for the scraps you toss my way every now and again?  I will not for I am Lady Keri Adlam and I will not stop fighting my enemies.”  Her voice had risen again into the yell but she was running out of steam and let her arms drop back to her side.

Damien raised a brow, waited another moment to see if she would continue her tirade then stepped forward.  He stood toe to toe with her forcing her to lean back to look up at him. “You will yield.  To not yield to King Richard means your death and I will not kill you.  I would not kill you at Langley and I will not kill you now.”  He stepped away leaving her standing in silence.  He collected the chamber pot and linens left by the door earlier along with the bucket of water and sat them within her reach.

Standing away he straightened, placed his hands behind his back as if he were ready to address his soldiers.  “There is no Langley, there is no title.  I have but to take you to the barracks and make you a whore.  I will not kill you but I can break you Keri,” he said her name using the same disdain she had earlier employed.  He moved to the table and placed his sword on his hip with the dagger he had earlier retrieved.  Wetting his fingers he doused the light on the table and left the darkened chamber, closing the door behind him. 

Chapter 7

Though the hearth provided enough light to keep her fear at bay sleep was impossible as she shivered on the stone floor.  Night passed into day.  Enough of the sun came through the nearby window she could stand in the early morning light and warm herself.  It was short lived as the sun continued its trek across the sky outside and the walls once again blocked its warm beams.  Morning passed into day, Keri’s stomach rumbled its protest at not being fed but still Damien did not come.  Her temper began to flare with the fear he would not come back.  Positioned as it was the entire castle could be abandoned and she would not know tucked away in the back chamber.

As the day began to darken panic started to take hold.   The fire was completely out and she was far more alone than she had been last night.  The light of the day was far to fleeting before it was gone and the chamber was plunged into a dark dungeon.

Keri didn’t know how it was she had slept but the chamber door banged open against the wall and she was jerked from her exhausted slumber to find dawn had broken and Damien was filling the doorway.  He had more than a day’s growth of beard darkening his face which looked haggard along with his eyes which were so fatigued they appeared sunken into his skull.  He moved to the table, not even sparing a glance for Keri.  Roland followed him casting a weary glance at her then Edwin entered refusing to look her way altogether.  The boy went about setting the room to rights, lighting the fire, straightening the blankets on the bed while the men studied the map.

“I want every hovel searched from here,” he said pointing to a location on the map, “to here.  Leave no stone unturned.  He is out there somewhere and someone knows where.  If they meet any resistance tell the men to kill them.”

Roland nodded, “How is the leg?” Keri followed his gaze to Damien’s thigh where a filthy rag was wrapped around it.  Blood had stained it and she could tell the way he stood the leg pained him.

“It is all right,” Damien said leaning both hands on the table top as he stared down at the map.

“Has she eaten?” Damien asked and she felt his eyes land on her. 

“No, everyone stayed away from her as you ordered.”

“Good,” he said turning his attention back to the map.  After a few moments of silence Damien’s voice broke it.  “Get the men moving and have some food sent to us.”

Roland left quietly and Damien continued to study the map in silence.  The food arrived and Damien sat it on the corner of the table before he slowly removed his sword and dagger.  Filling a
plate he stepped within her reach, a slight limp in his step.  He was weakened by the wound but Keri was too tired and hungry to care.  He dropped the tray in front of her then turned went back to the table and sat, devouring his food.  Keri ignored him, yanking the bandage off her hand and hungrily ate. 

When she finished her tray
her hunger still abounded so she stood and moved toward Damien.  She was within an arms length of the table when she spoke.  “I would like more,” she said refusing to ask but added a please for good measure.

Damien’s head shot up and she could tell immediately he had been as
leep.  He looked to his plate than to hers and back to the tray still full of food.  Standing stiffly he reached out and yanked the platter from her hand then filled it again.

“Where have you been?” she asked taking her filled one back.

Damien turned wearily away and moved back to the chair he had been sitting in.  “Cyrille is missing.  We have searched everywhere but cannot find him.”

“Any sign of the men he followed?” she asked.

“Is that concern for the enemy?” Damien asked but he seemed too tired to relish it.  “No signs of any of them,” he answered as he bent stiffly forward to remove his boot.

Keri sat down where she stood and ate while watching him.  The man was exhausted and the struggle with his first boot appeared nearly too much for him to endure.  Finally, freeing his foot he dropped the boot then leaned back against the table as if he had to catch his breath.  She watched his eyes drift closed, his hand went limp in this lap.

Keri stood and scowled over at the man who held her captive.  She should just let him sit there and bleed to death, she chastised herself for thinking it, followed quickly on the heels of that was the guilt for her desire to give aid to her enemy.  “Will you allow me to assist you?” 

Red tinged eyes shot to hers.  He stared at her for a moment, cocked his head sideways but made no move to get up.

“I see you are injured,” she said glancing at his leg.  Her eyes rose to meet the gray-green of his.  “I’ll just be returning the favor,” she said with cheer in her voice she did not feel.  How could she be developing a soft spot for the man who kept her chained?  Was it only because he built a passion in her that nearly consumed her?  No wonder women were considered the weaker sex.  In the hands of the right man a woman could be brought to her knees and what’s worse would not care.

“Keri,” he began tiredly, his eyes intently on hers. “I do not have the strength to fight with you.”

“Then we will say I win,” slipped out before she could stop it.  The corner of Damien’s lips twitched upward.  With a motion that reflected his tiredness he rose to his full height.  Picking up his chair he moved it within her reach.  Putting her hands on his broad shoulders she urged him back down.  Moving around him she pulled and tugged until the boot came free.  She went about removing his mail and gambeson with him lifting and assisting.

Finally, she was down to his braies which she ripped open to reveal the deep wound a blade had laid open.

“How did this happen?” she asked kneeling beside him and probing at the edge as delicately as possible.  Blood still seeped from the wound.

“In Hindle we were ambushed.  We lost five men.”

“You need stitching,” she said standing abruptly.  What she wanted to say was she was sorry for his loss.

“Edwin!” Damien bellowed and the door was opened abruptly by the boy.  “Bring whatever she needs,” he ordered. 

The sun had peaked by the time Keri finished with the fine stitches.  The man had set unflinchingly in his chair as she had plied the needle and the only indication of this was the tightening around his eyes.  Why did her heart cry for this warrior before her?  Why did she care about the hardships that had made this man a hard, cold warrior just because she saw a different man underneath?

Using her shoulder for support he angled his bulk up and out of the chair, testing the strength of his leg before resting his weight on it.  Damien moved the chair back out of her reach then went to the table beside the bed and retrieved the candle.  He turned it over in his hands looking at it thoughtfully.

“Is this still the item you wish to obtain?”

She nodded watching the tired exhaustion crease his face.  He looked down at the candle again before tossing it to her.  She caught it easily then watched him slide under the covers of the bed.

“Will I be allowed to light it when it grows dark?”

“Perhaps,” was his tired reply.  “Unless you do not allow me my rest now.”

She rewarded him with silence and it was only moments before she heard the steady even breaths of sleep claim him. 

~   ~   ~   ~

Damien paced the battlements as the night settled around him like a cloak.  Where was Cyrille?  Did he yet live?  What if this was it and he never saw his brother again and never knew what fate befell him?  He leaned his hands against the cold wall and let his head hang down as he contemplated a bleak future.  His leg throbbed and his sleep had been brief earlier leaving him exhausted.  Eyes had watched him as he placed his clothes back on and donned his weapons.  Thoughts of her brought on the realization it was darkening and he had told her he would light her candle.  Turning he fled along the battlements, down the steps to the courtyard, slowing his steps only when he came in sight of others.  Reaching his chamber he flung the door open making Keri’s head shoot up from where it had rested on her arm.  She rose up seeing him in the doorway and settled on her knees. 

Why hadn’t he given the woman any clothes he wondered as his body was drawn to her?  Walking into his room was a torture to his senses especially today with her dark hair tumbling around her rounded shoulders, the ends teasing the tops of her breasts.  Her legs were slightly spread and the sleep in her eyes made it hard to approach her slowly.

Why was he even walking near her?  There were other candles to be lit but he had told her he would light hers and he could no more stop himself than he could stop the sands of time.  He walked to her and stopped to look down upon her.  She grew uneasy under his gaze and as he
bent closer he heard her suck in a breath.  He reached for the candle on the floor beside her then stood and moved to the hearth.  He set the candle ablaze then used it to light others around the room before returning to Keri.  “Do you tire of sleeping on the cold floor?”

“Do you tire of keeping me chained like a dog?” she asked with venom in her voice.

“Nay,” he said allowing the corners of his mouth to lift with amusement.  She was back in form, at least surliness he understood, he couldn’t take her kindness and keep himself hardened against her.

He handed the candle to her and she reached out taking it reverently before dismissing him and turning to sit it on the floor near the wall.  He quickly turned away seeing her bending over and left the chamber.  He planned to take food to her but instead decided to keep his distance and had Edwin take it.  The boy came back down quickly with flaming cheeks and a bent head he did not raise to look at him.

“What did she do Edwin?” Damien asked when the boy took his place behind him. 

“She wanted me to release her,” the boy replied nearly at a whisper.

Damien paused in mid drink waiting for the boy to go on.  “I hope you didn’t,” he said gruffly in an effort to encourage the boy to tell his story.

“No Sir Damien,” he blurted out nervously.  “It’s just that,” behind him the boy cleared his throat.  “That is to say,” again he cleared his throat.

“Well, spit it out,” Damien snapped his patience already hanging by a thin and frayed thread.

“She offered to, well.  She said she would let me mate with her.”

The ale Damien had just taken a drink of came spewing out of his mouth.  “She what?” he thundered rising to his feet.  He quickly held up a hand when the boy began to repeat himself.

He toppled his chair in his haste to get away from the table and to the stairs.  He took them two at a time.  That was it!  Keri’s antics were becoming too much.  She could wield a battle ax against him, escape him, even try to attack him when he least expected it but to offer herself to his squire was too much.  The chamber door crashed against the wall as he entered. 

Keri paused in mid bite as her gaze shot to his.  He stared at her, his anger ready to explode but she merely chewed the bite in her mouth as she watched him as if she did not see the storm in full force coming toward her.  Damien stepped inside the chamber and slammed the door against Edwin’s prying eyes. 

Quick angry strides carried him toward her but too late Keri recognized the danger she was in and clamored to her feet.  She backed to the wall taking her chain into both hands and she was thus armed and ready for a new fight.  Undaunted he continued closer prepared for the attack she launched as soon as he stepped within her reach.

The chain came up in a flash and she lunged for him.  She was as quick as he expected, but she was poorly armed.  He met the chain with his open hand he closed over it then twisted bringing her against him so hard he staggered under her puny weight.

“Didn’t I offer you to be my whore for tokens of comfort?” he snarled down at her face flushed by the heat of anger.

“You rotted bastard, I would never be your whore,” she said struggling to pull away.

He yanked the chain that had become entangled in her hands and pulled her against him again.

“Do you think I can’t make you my whore if I wanted to?”

“I would scratch you eyes out and cut off your manhood if you so much as try.”

The corners of Damien’s mouth crooked up, “I like challenges.”  With that his mouth crashed down onto hers.  She tried pulling away as his lips touched hers.  She tried lifting a knee as his tongue snuck out to gently touch those plump lips but one tug on the chain closed the space again.  His free hand came up to frame her face, his thumb cupping her chin, his roughened palm resting gently against her soft cheek, his fingers tickling the hair that framed such perfect beauty.  Did she not know he was bigger than she?  Did she not know he could crush her with one blow?

He dug his thumb into the sensitive spot under her chin to deter her from sinking her sharp teeth into his sensitive lip.  She gasped, her mouth already opened for the new attack when his tongue dove in, relishing the taste of her, craving her warmth.  He felt her body sway toward him.  What would he do if he did not have his hellcat to spar with?  Fear for his brother would consume him but his brother only took up half his thoughts while this woman demanded the rest.  What would he do if she gave in to him?  What would she be like if she gave in to his demands and did not have to be chained here in his chamber?