Conquer the Night, page 5
A knife protruded from the meat upon the table. She made a sudden, wild, reckless dive across the table after it, securing the utensil in her fingers before he wrenched her back and all but broke her wrist to force her to release the weapon.
“You’ll not get out of your fate by plunging such a weapon into your heart, madam. And you would definitely go to hell for suicide, wouldn’t you, lady?” he demanded, his fingers firm around her wrist, the hard length of his mail-clad body close and cold.
And still she could feel the fever of his heat from within.
She tossed back her hair, narrowed her eyes. “I had no intention of plunging it into my own heart; it was yours I intended to pierce!”
A cry of amusement, bravado, and warning arose from the heathen warriors who surrounded them.
Arryn wrenched the knife from her, his eyes never leaving hers. “Drink with us!” he insisted harshly. “Drink to Scotland, and a Scottish king! Ah, come, my lady. With us—would you drink with us, drink this? An oladh sibh seo?”
Her fingers wound around the cup. Seized by fear, fury, and frustration, she tossed the contents of the tankard into his face.
Unfortunately, there was not much left in the tankard, and he managed to avoid the toss as if he had expected it. Ale flew into his face, but only droplets, and he wiped them aside, staring at her with his eyes glittering with pure fury before he pushed her back—then abruptly threw his shoulder against her midsection and tossed her over his back. His men let out calls and guffaws once again as he strode with her across the hall, but he paused, turning back. “Jay! Can you watch her now within a tower and not fall prey to her wiles? There’s business more important than tending to Darrow’s woman for the moment!”
“Aye, Arryn! She’ll not escape me again!” Jay said, following behind.
Dazed, afraid, humiliated, Kyra attempted to fight her position. But he moved swiftly, his steps fleet upon the stairway. He reached the second floor and started for the stairs to the eastern tower, and she thought again that he knew the castle—knew it well. Seconds later he was pressing open the door to the master’s quarters.
She was suddenly set down.
Staggering, she found her balance and whirled around.
A fire already burned in the hearth; fresh linen stretched across the large bed, and the smell of clean rushes on the floor mingled with the fresh breeze that drifted through the high tower windows, as the tapestries that covered them had been pulled back. He had ordered this place prepared, she thought, and in little time. There were no servants present, this had all been done with remarkable speed and competency.
Naturally, she thought suddenly. He had come here as the conqueror—he meant to take the master’s quarters. And he had already told her what her fate was to be: used, abused—and left for the buzzards.
She turned again quickly to find him staring at her. The strangest quickening and tension seemed to seize her limbs. But she was the lady here. And she had endured the taunting in the great hall below because she had gone there with a purpose—to find out about Father Michael and Capt. Tyler Miller.
“Look, sir—you are misinformed, misguided, and, I’m afraid, totally ignorant on many issues. And still, I understand, sir, what you have suffered in this war, and I am ready to pay for the sins done against you with my life.”
“I am glad that you are so resigned, for you will pay,” he informed her politely.
“So take vengeance against me.”
“I intend to.”
She hesitated, watching him, for he made no step toward her. She suddenly felt compelled to defend herself. “What happened at your Hawk’s Cairn was horrible, Sir Arryn, but—”
“Beyond all words, my lady.”
“But Lord Darrow came after you, sir, you’re aware, because of the death of his kin.”
It had been a mistake to remind him. She watched the icy steel mask that came over his features. “I didn’t murder Darrow’s kin or anyone in the path in cold blood, my lady. I met with a warrior, a knight, face-to-face. We fought. He died.”
“Sir, still …”
“You know exactly what was done at Hawk’s Cairn!” he said heatedly.
She had heard the facts of the slaughter often enough. She looked down, not wanting to meet his eyes, wishing she had never spoken.
“Do with me what you will!” she whispered, and found the courage to lift her eyes. “But I beg of you, you must realize that the people here are truly innocent of the crimes that were done against you—”
“While you, my lady, are guilty of an outrageous amount of talk!” he broke in, harsh and impatient. “Guilty of a tiresome, shrew’s tongue—among other things. Enough for now. I will tend to you later.”
He turned to stride from the room. She was surprised to find herself running after him, throwing herself against his back. “Wait, please! I’ve tried to explain again and again—”
“You’ve tried to explain? Ah, lady, at least your Capt. Tyler Miller is a trained fighting man. He mowed down lads and lasses, working in the fields, and he beheaded the smithy, who was surely innocent of any crimes against Lord Darrow.”
“Please!” she whispered. “I must know what you’ve done with Capt. Tyler Miller, with the priest, with …”
She backed away, dropping her hold on his arm as he spun to her. She stood straight, her eyes raised to his. “I know what happened at Hawk’s Cairn. But I don’t believe that you will practice butchery upon these people. You wish to taunt, but you will not be so cruel—”
A roaring sound suddenly seemed to erupt from him; she jumped quickly backward again, but not quickly enough. His hands were on her, wresting her to him. He held her, shaking her. She wore no cap or wimple; her hair hung free to her back, and she felt it shake along with her teeth.
“Don’t underestimate my determination, lady! And by God, take care! Don’t you—you, of all people—dare believe that I will know any mercy!” She saw the slamming of his pulse at the vein against his throat and cried out from the punishing force of his fingers on her arm. He moved his hand as if he would strike her. She closed her eyes, willing herself not to flinch.
She opened her eyes. He had not struck her, yet seemed the more furious for it. His fingers then fell upon the fabric of her outer gown, soft blue linen beautifully embroidered at the sleeves and neckline, and ripped with such force that the fabric gave way from bodice to hemline. Stunned and frightened, she met his eyes, then turned to flee again—to where, she did not know.
Nor did it matter, for he reached out and caught the cotton fabric of her darker blue undertunic, and her very impetus to flee aided the grasp of his fingers. The garment was wrenched nearly from her; she tripped upon the hemline. Half-clad, she stumbled and fell to the floor, trying to grab the fabric to cover her breasts even as she gasped for breath, and twisted in a desperate movement for defense.
He stared down at her, eyes still glittering cobalt, touched with anger and no other emotion. He was not about to fall on her with lust or unbridled passion. “Don’t mistake the need for my time elsewhere as a weakness for having mercy toward you, Lady Kyra. I do not intend to offer any. No quarter. Let there be none asked, for none will be given.”
He turned away from her then and exited the tower room.
The door slammed in his wake.
She heard the sliding and grating of the heavy bolt beyond.
CHAPTER THREE
Jay stood just outside, watching as Arryn slid the bolt on the door. “Arryn, it did not occur to me that she would run. She must have known the castle was filled with our men.”
“Let any treachery occur to you; she is more devious than Darrow himself, and possessed of a greater spirit,” he told his friend and fellow warrior.
“Arryn, in all fairness, would ‘devious’ best describe the lady?” Jay asked quietly. “My God, I had not expected such a …”
“May I suggest the word ‘devious’ once again,” Arryn persisted, aggravated. The lady of Seacairn was not proving to be what he had expected, either. She denied wrongdoing, yet fought like a tigress. She was intelligent, certainly not without courage—and knew how to use arms and armor. It was not unthinkable that she should have known about Kinsey Darrow’s exploits, suggested them, or even helped plan them.
Jay shook his head. “No, Arryn. I wasn’t about to describe her as devious. ‘Beautiful’ is the word I was seeking.”
“How can you think such a thing about this woman? Have you forgotten—”
“No, I’ve forgotten nothing, but then, I’ve never seen the Lady Kyra before. I’d heard the rumor that she was one of the loveliest women on God’s earth, but such rumors regarding beauty and talent do seem to go with riches—with which she is also heavily endowed. But it is more than that! She is passionate, ardent; she is loyal to England’s Edward because she thinks him a great king, because she was taught that he was her king, and it is natural that she honor him”
“This is Scotland, not England.”
“Border country.”
“Scotland!”
“Aye, Scotland, then. But her father was English If you listen to her speak—”
“If you listen to her speak, you will find yourself a traitor to your own cause!” Arryn warned him. Then he added hoarsely, “My God, Jay, you must remember what was done! And she knows of it; she hasn’t tried telling me she was no part of it, just that the men here are innocent.”
“Sweet Jesu, Arryn, I am well aware of the atrocity. How do I forget when my brother perished, when … my sister escaped the manor to tell us what had leveled the house to the ground?”
“Aye, it was your sister, Katherine, who related the events that took place. And she would have died with the others were she not so clever and ingenious. And still—you suggest that I forgive this Lady Kyra because rumors of her beauty are true, because she is loyal to the man she considers her king—and because she has the strength of character to fight?”
“I suggest that you not practice the same cruelties that make a monster of another man, lest you become a monster yourself.”
“I never intended to execute the woman, and you are well aware of that, no matter what my threats.”
“Of course.”
“But she will not wed Darrow with her honor and riches intact. I swear that as well!”
Jay was sorrowful, looking first to the floor, and then to Arryn. “I ride with you, Arryn, because I know you. I know that you will not hesitate to kill in battle, and I know, as well, that you don’t butcher men or women just to prove that you can, or that you are powerful enough to slaughter the innocent. Your strength is in your justice. Whatever you do to her,” he said very softly, “it will not bring Alesandra back to you. Or the child that was lost with her.”
Arryn didn’t reply at first, but after a moment he said, “In all of Kinsey Darrow’s offenses, he has cried out that he does justice in the name of the king of England, and the lordships of Seacairn. The lord, Kyra’s father, is dead—and until a wedding is carried out and legal, the lordship of Seacairn is a ladyship—the inheritance is hers. She has accepted her king with all loyalty, and such a man as Kinsey, apparently, in the same manner. She is as much the enemy as anyone.” He was quiet for a moment, inhaling deeply, fists clenching and unclenching, fighting to conquer the haunting emotions that could seem to paralyze his soul at any given time.
Then he added, “You’re right, you do know me. You know that I will not set the lady ablaze.” The last was said very bitterly. “But there will be retaliation. For the moment, my friend, you will guard her, and guard her well. I intend to see that we are well secured at this castle. I don’t believe, however, that any force would test our own, other than a king’s army, and we know that Edward is in the field already. Still, I don’t care to be surprised at night by any other faction. I will return when I have seen to the security of the castle.”
“Aye, Arryn. Yet can we hold this fortress long?”
“Perhaps not—if Edward himself decides to take it. We can withstand a fairly powerful assault, but still … it is important as well that the men immediately begin stripping the fortress of her assets.”
“I will guard Kyra well, Arryn,” Jay swore. “She’ll not escape me again. I promise.”
Arryn nodded. He worried somewhat that Jay, usually steadfast in all endeavors, seemed to have weakened toward this woman of Kinsey Darrow’s. But she resided in a locked tower with a good long drop to the parapets below. Unless she somehow managed to talk Jay into opening the door, there was no escape—and if she got past Jay, more of Arryn’s men were already busy occupying the guest rooms in the castle and staking out their claims to the choice spots in the stables and outer buildings. She could not go far.
At the foot of the stone steps that led to the tower room, Arryn turned to the left, finding the broad passageway that led out to the parapets. From here he could look out at the courtyard of the castle, and to the stone wall some fifty yards away that guarded the outer circle of the defense works. Having seen, earlier that day, that he and his men were coming to attack, the farmers had herded their grazing animals inside the wall. Produce had been gathered inside to protect the inhabitants against siege conditions. Now the gates had been opened once more; animals were being herded back out of the inner tower courtyard, and the courtyard was being set to rights. Darkness had fallen, but after such a day, there was still a great deal of activity taking place. Some men hobbled about, injured in the fracas, but already fishwives were back in the courtyard, trying to make what sales they could of the catch taken even as the defenders had fought to save their castle. To the southeast of the castle, just below the circular walkway of the parapets, there was nothing but water, for that corner was protected by the river. Arryn knew that Seacairn had never been taken in such a manner, for to attempt to enter the fortress from the water would mean coming up the sheer stone of the wall. Stealth would be to no avail. Any assault or danger had to come openly, just as he and his men had come today, riding down hard from the north. It was folly to attack this place without a sound fighting force. It was only in the last months that he had gained a sound enough leadership to acquire the warriors he had needed for such a definitive assault.
Seacairn …
He had known the castle, as he had known the old lord, because before Edward had decided that he would destroy Scotland as he had destroyed Wales, there had been a time of relative peace between the two countries. Edward was a strong and crafty king; none had actually realized his true intentions until he had put them into practice.
Arryn walked the parapets and looked out over the large stretch of landscape visible from this height. They had begun their attack at midday; it seemed amazing that a full moon already rode high in the night sky, illuminating the countryside stretched before him.
He studied the slow run of the river, crystallized beneath the falling sun, the rolling green, yellow, and lilac hills, the rich forests beyond. It all appeared so beautiful….
And so peaceful.
No … if Edward came with his army, they could not hold this place.
He gritted his teeth and closed his eyes. Arryn had come here to kill Kinsey Darrow, but Darrow had ridden away—at the summons of the Earl of Harringford. It was unsettling to know that Harringford and Lord Darrow were out there somewhere, attacking what village or manor he knew not. Perhaps, he reflected, they were trying to find William Wallace in the forest of Selkirk to destroy him and his men.
He bowed his head, shuddering suddenly, wondering if their rebellion could ever win them freedom from English domination.
He thought back to the night of Alexander’s death. God rot! If the king had known just what a hell he would create for his country, would he have risked his life so?
There must always be a Scotland … Scotland wasn’t one man. So Alexander had told him that terrible snowy night, and God help him, he had remembered those words always, even as he had discovered along the way just what defying the English would mean to him.
Ten years since the king’s death. Ten years of violence, anguish, defiance, and a fight that they could not relinquish, no matter what tragedy came their way. Ten years …
Edward had to be defied. And men like Darrow had to be destroyed—along with all who supported them, even such loyal English women as the Lady of Seacairn.
Whether they fought for the imprisoned king who had abdicated, or the lion triumphant of Scotland, did it matter, as long as they fought for their country? Though Edward had taken the king, he had not defeated the Scottish spirit. And rebellions arose: Andrew de Moray in the North, and William Wallace in the south.
Arryn’s cousin, Sir John Graham, had, from the start, befriended William Wallace, a man who seemed to some—even among the Scots—to be a tremendous danger, while to others he represented the soul of freedom for their country. Wallace had been gaining more and more followers in his quest against the English here in the southern half of the country, while Andrew de Moray had been putting forth a fair fight to the north. Wallace fought for a country for Scotsmen, and for the Scottish king, John Balliol, in his captivity, no matter how weak Balliol had proven to be. Though Arryn thought little of the captive king, he had come to know Wallace through his cousin, and he admired the man very much, and had joined with his band on many an excursion against the English.
Wallace continued to respect the imprisoned John Balliol as king, but he didn’t live under the assumption that the king would be released. He fought under the flag of the lion triumphant, the symbol of their country. Arryn led his own group of knights and freemen. He was respected as the leader of his group, and he led with his own stern set of ethics. Far too much that was true butchery had been done by both sides in this wretched war, and thus the way he fought, and the understanding among his men that they would not massacre their own people or the English peasantry in battles in which they had no voice. As Jay had said, he allowed no man to be put to torture, but fought fair battles. He slaughtered neither women nor children. His men were free to ravage what property they might; God knew, they had to survive, and survival was getting harder all the time. He had burned fortresses to the ground, seized supplies, relieved great ladies of their jewels—but not their lives.
