The Lethal Flame (Flame Series) (7 page)

He gulped and bent reaching for the edges of the cloak.  He gasped when his tug pulled it farther open for the brief moment before the edges were closed.  Quickly the boy left and she was left with a plate of food in her lap she could not eat for her bandaged and shackled hands. 

Damien’s angry voice came to her and she turned to see him facing off with Cyrille.  Toe to toe their silhouettes were the exact same height in the glow of the fires.  Both had massive chests, trunk like arms and the will of bulls.

Cyrille motioned in her direction and Damien threw his hands up.  “You can take care of it.”

She had to strain to hear what Cyri
lle replied but it seemed the gist of it was the scarred man did not want to hurt her again if she tried to escape.  Damien called him a coward then stalked toward her.  He slammed himself down in front of her and yanked the tray from her lap.  “Open your mouth,” he ordered. 

She was offered nothing since the evening before so she did as he ordered and had a piece of meat shoved into her mouth, considerably larger than she would place there herself.  It seemed forever to get the meat chewed.  She barely had enough time to get it swallowed before he shoved a piece of bread in after it.  The entire time he fed her she watched the fire light play across his features that shifted from anger to impatience and another emotion that was softer yet she could not identify it as it appeared and was gone quickly among the turmoil of the others.

“Is there more?” she asked when the plate was empty and he stood.

“This is war for us.  Be grateful you had what you did.”   He began to leave her but her next plea for so
me privacy to take care of her personal needs made him stop.  He slung the platter toward his squire nearly hitting him with it.  Angrily he produced the key, pulled her chains from the tree then yanked her to her feet and dragged her off into the bushes.

He gave her privacy only to the length of her chains and she knew he heard every noise she made from urinating to emptying her bowels and the wiping.  Her cheeks red with embarrassment he dragged her back to the tree and chained her to it again.  A makeshift bed had been made for her there and a look around found Cyrille turned in her direction.  Everyone about
the camp still had their full armor on except their helmets.  The commander’s brother had removed his but the hood remained on and she wondered how many people had seen the full extent of the sacrifice he had made for his King’s secrets and his brother’s life.

Keri’s sleep was fitful that night.  Each time she awoke it was to find Damien’s silhouette against the backdrop of the castle as he watched it and she was sure he planned his attack for the next morning.  Had he watched her castle so intently?  When she walked the parapets the evening before the attack had he seen her?  Did he know then that he would chain her to him and make her bend to his will?

Before the first rays of the sun broke through the clouds she was sitting before Damien again, the cloak draped around her, the horse shifting anxiously beneath them both.  The army stood in the tree line waiting, horses champing at their bits, shifting uneasily.  Damien’s eyes constantly scanned the walls.  His heels moved against his horse and even the littlest of noises ceased and only the clopping of his horse’s hooves through the leaves could be heard as he moved back and forth in front of his troops.

“Our journey draws to an end,” his voice came out in subdued tones.  “Stand together, fight together, and we shall enjoy our victory together.”

The horse beneath her half reared slamming her against Damien’s chest.  “Haltwhistle is the King’s,” he yelled and the army lunged forward as one behind she and Damien.  As they charged from the woods flames showed atop the walls and then were unleashed and the flaming arrows rained down around them.  Keri need not worry for no one could hurt Damien.  He was a force to reckon with alone.  No arrow, no sword could take him down.  They rode all the way to the wall, the people inside had been preparing all night for the attack it would seem for even before the first light streaked the sky they were well armed and ready.  It would do them no good.  It did Alec and her men no good.

The horse pivoted and she heard Damien’s voice as he soothed the quivering animal.  They stood their ground as the men flooded around them.  The horse danced as Damien moved him along the lines, calling orders, pushing his men forward, over those who already lay dying as the sun began to make its appearance.

“Steady now,” Damien’s voice came out soothingly to the quivering horse.  He raised his bow, three arrows notched in it as he let them fly over the wall.  Not a breath was drawn before he had three more pulled and loosed.

He abandoned his assistance to the artillery to spur the horse back to the wall.  Hour after hour passed, the sun climbing ever steadier. By midday bodies littered the ground around the walls, men still tried valiantly to climb them while Damien’s artillery chipped away at them. 

“Do you think we will penetrate them before nightfall?” the knight Roland asked coming to his side.

“We will take them down today.  Fell them today and tomorrow we can be taking Featherstone and be done with it.”

Keri knew what the man she rode with proposed was quite a challenge and considering the fight here was far worse than at Staward she couldn’t help but doubt his words.  Roland however promised him his victory before they rode away to the sound of Roland’s confident voice ordering another surge of foot soldiers to the walls. 

The gray horse came to a stop and Keri followed Damien’s gaze up the wall to where a group of his men were fighting to gain access.  Man after man fell from the heights.  Some men were Damien’s some were of Haltwhistle but his men kept pushing as their leader did.

“Over the top, over the top,” the man behind her chanted under his breath as he watched the battle.  She found herself caught in the moment, in the excitement building in the man with his arms wrapped about her.  She doubted he realized he held her instead of just carried her now.  One hand held the reins but the other wrapped around her middle and his chin rested on the top of her head.

He roared his victory when three men gained the wall and others flowed over behind them.  “Together!” the man yelled raising his sword.  A roar began within the ranks of Damien’s men and they were like ants, first in the one spot then all along the walls they clamored up and over.  Both hands came around her and the horse they rode thundered down on the gates.  The animal leaped into the courtyard over the gates that had been shattered by the time they reached them.  Men surrounded the horse as soon as it landed.  Keri tried to make herself as small a target as she could while Damien pivoted the horse left then right swinging his sword madly.  Screams rose up around her, sweat poured from the horse and she was sure the man.  Fear engulfed her, never had she seen a battle as intense as the one she found herself in the middle of. 

He battled silently, he and his horse had been honed together on a battle field somewhere.  She could feel the guidance of the knight’s legs on his horse’s sides as he moved left, then right, pivoting on hind legs, rearing to avoid blades, the horse striking out with hoofs if any one came into range and the man who she clung to in complete control.  She looked about them for more of his men and she saw no one, only she, Damien and the gray on which they sat.  For the briefest of moments she wondered about herself chained to these people’s enemy.  They would see her as his whore as the people of Staward did, would they know of the stories being told about her at Langley?   What of her children?  She did not know where they kept Lottie, it was away from the main troops or she would have glimpsed them by now but they had to be near.  What would the people of Haltwhistle think of them when they found them? 

A grunt from Damien and his sword fell from his hand.  Hands were pulling on Keri and she let out a scream before she was pulled from the horse.  Viselike arms wrapped around her from above and it was a short lived tug of war as Damien tumbled from the saddle with her, his arms wrapped about her.  Was he protecting her or was he only protecting the property of the king?  He landed on top of her, crushing her but immediately his weight rolled from her and her chains were yanked.  She saw in the maelstrom of battle that he still held them in his hand and had one length wrapped around a man’s neck and she watched him break his neck with the chain before letting him go.  The man’s sword was in Damien’s hand before his body hit the ground.  Another man attacked, his sword slicing across Damien’s thigh.  He swung on that man catching him in the chest.  She knew Damien’s aim was deadly and facing a man with armor a blow to the chest was not as effective, was he faltering.  For a moment she watched  Damien whirl the sword
in his hand at the same time hefting it, testing it and his next blow took his attacker’s head nearly off. 

Keri was grabbed, rough hands pulling at her, touching her.  Could these men really be lusting after a woman in the middle of battle?  She fought, the cloak long gone as a shield to her body.  She felt her arms nearly pull from their sockets when Damien yanked her chains bringing her closer to him.  Again, the soldiers tried to pull her away, their hands seeking, their mouths slobbering.  One man bit her on her shoulder and she screamed.

Damien spun around, a foot coming up to step on her chains, yanking her down to the ground before he lunged over her, driving his sword into the man.  He fell in front of her in a blur as Damien yanked her back to her feet, his arm around her, holding her against him but still having room to swing the enemy’s weapon.  He fought tirelessly but she heard the panting of his breath within his helmet and knew he now fought against fatigue.  How much longer could he hold out?  Both of them were hit from the side with what felt like a wall and they went down, Damien’s hands falling from her as the chaos swirled around her.   She landed on him, rolled off and saw the sword in the dirt beside her.  The battle had long since torn the wrappings from her hands their wounds long since forgotten with the threat of death hanging over her.  She lunged for the sword, hands reaching for both her and the weapon but she reached it first, taking one man’s arm off at the shoulder as she spun on him.  When the man above Damien raised his sword to plunge it into him she did not hesitate but drove her own into the man’s back.  Surprised gray-green eyes looked up at her as Damien lunged to his feet, grabbing up a sword. 

Back to back they fought.  She felt in sync with the man as he pivoted, she pivoted, always keeping their backs nearly touching, the enemy never having a chance to take out one before the other turned on them.  It seemed as if they fought that way for hours.  Keri’s arms grew heavy, her will to stay on her feet faltered.  “Stand together,” the voice broke through the noise.  It was out of breath, nearly weak from the exertion but still filled with the authority of a leader. 

She found more strength in it and doubled her efforts.  “Together!” shouted the gravelly voice of Cyrille and she saw him on top his black horse crashing into the enemy as they fell under the mighty war horse’s hooves.  Up to their side, the man’s sword doing as much damage as the horse.  A vise closed around her, bringing her attention back to the man who lunged toward her, sword raised but it was the sword that came from over her shoulder, slicing through the air beside her ear that met him and drove him onto his knees and to death.

The heavy arms didn’t leave her but wrapped around her more, the tip of Damien’s bloody sword rested in the dirt.  The battle was over and Damien and his men were the victors.  She turned in his arms and he allowed her, but did not release his grip on her.  She stood against him, his strength holding her up his arms wrapped around her naked body.  Someone brought a cloak and draped it around her but still Damien did not release her.  He leaned on her heavily, his head against hers and she heard the pain filled pants as they wheezed from inside his helm.

“Cyrille!  Cyrille!” she yelled as Damien’s body grew heavier.   Suddenly the other man was there, yanking his brother’s helmet from his head.  His hair was caked to his head by the sweat and it rolled down his face.  It was the paleness of it that made unexplainable fear twist her gut.

Rough hands shoved her away as Cyrille grabbed hold of his brother and kept him from crumbling to the ground.  “She has a sword,” Edwin said yanking it from her hands. 

“Take her to the dungeon,” Cyrille’s angry voice cut through all the other noises as he lifted his brother’s body and toted him in a different direction.

It was Roland who stepped forward to follow Cyrille’s order.  When she tried to shrink away he yanked her up by her chains and her feet barely touched the ground as he dragged her away.  She screamed and fought, unmindful now that she had not a stitch of clothing on she was only filled with the fear they thought she had fought Damien.  Roland shoved her so hard into the wall of the dungeon she saw stars.  When her head cleared it was to find her hands chained above her head as she sat in the dirt.  “Damien should have burned you with the rest of the rebels at Langley,” he hissed before turning and leaving her there in the dark.

This prison was far different than Langley’s.  Rarely did those get used but here was the stench of death, rotting corpses and the yells of those still being held.  She sat quietly, her body shaking as much from the fear as the cold dampness.  Would they burn the walls down around her?  This wasn’t a wooden fortress like Staward, it was stone as Langley was.  The fires would be hot to bring the stone down but still it probably would not burn here.  The hole would most likely remain intact and be buried beneath the rubble.  Would the smoke kill her, the heat, or her own fear that built within her each time she drew breath?