Angel's Assassin
Authors: Laurel O'Donnell
Tags: #romance, #historical romance, #medieval romance, #laurel odonnell
by
Copyright © 2012 by Laurel O’Donnell
Published by ODONNELL BOOKS
ISBN: 978-0-9848895-7-0
Cover Design by Jack O’Donnell
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All rights reserved. No part of this
historical romance ebook may be reproduced in any form or by any
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its author, Laurel O’Donnell.
The characters and events portrayed in this
medieval romance novel are fictitious or are used fictitiously. Any
similarity to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental
and not intended by the author.
Table of Contents
Reviews for Laurel O’Donnell
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G
awyn shoved
the lock of his chained hands toward his brother. “Open them,
Damien,” he urged, his voice a conspiratorial whisper. But even the
hushed tone of his words couldn’t hide his growing
excitement.
The wood beneath Damien’s bare feet creaked
as a wave struck the hull of the ship. Damien instinctively braced
himself for the gentle roll of the ship. In the moonlight piercing
the slats of the floorboards above, he could make out the lock on
his brother’s manacles. He steadied his shaking hand and thrust one
of the keys into it. It fit on the first try. Damien stifled his
jubilance. It was a good omen if there ever was one.
The ship rocked again. They were in port,
anchored in the bay off the southeast coast of England. Captain
Blackmoore and most of the crew were in town spending what little
they made on the last crossing to France, stocking up for their
next trip. There was no better time to escape. It had taken years
for the right moment to present itself, years of watching and
waiting and planning, but he had finally managed to sneak the key
to their locks away from their brutish taskmaster. Damien turned
the key, holding his breath. With a tiny clink, Gawyn’s manacles
fell open. The sound of freedom. Damien sighed a breath of victory,
barely able to keep the smile from his lips.
A grunt and cough came from the front of the
galley.
Damien snapped his head around to stare at
Otis. A stray beam of moonlight pierced the dark interior of the
hold, shining directly on their sleeping taskmaster. Damien grit
his teeth, trying to be quiet and patient. He watched Otis’s closed
eyes and mouth, watched the fat man’s nostrils flare, listened to
him snort and grunt. He fought down his growing impatience, waiting
for the right moment to make his move. The ship slowly rocked to
and fro, the gentle motion pushing Otis deeper into sleep. Drool
accumulated in the corner of the brute’s mouth and oozed from
between his corpulent lips.
Damien glanced at Gawyn with wide eyes.
Gawyn placed his leg next to Damien,
displaying the keyhole of his ankle shackles for him. He waved his
hand urgently for Damien to continue.
Damien shoved the same key he used on Gawyn’s
manacles into the lock.
“Hurry,” Gawyn whispered.
Damien took a deep breath. He had watched the
sun rise and set through the floorboards of the main galley above
them for four years, two months and three days. He and Gawyn had
been children when they came on board, he a mere twelve summers.
Damien still remembered his father standing on the shore as Captain
Blackmoore directed them up the gangplank of the ship. The sun had
been shining that day, but its bright rays had not reached their
father’s eyes. Damien recalled the look of satisfaction darkening
his father’s stare… and the sack he held in his hand when he turned
away, walking out of their lives forever. He sold them into bondage
for a mere bag of coin.
Damien also remembered the promise he made
that night as he comforted a sobbing Gawyn in a black corner of the
ship.
They would be free one day.
Damien clenched his teeth as he turned the
key. The irons around Gawyn’s ankle fell open, sliding to the
ground. Gawyn was free!
Triumph bloomed in Damien’s chest and he
moved to his own leg shackle, but his hands shook so badly he had
to stop. He took a deep breath, forcing himself to stay calm, then
shoved the key into the metal lock and turned it with vicious
determination. Freedom. But the lock remained engaged. It was the
wrong key. He tried another, but again no luck. Desperate, he
searched the ring for another key. Despite his best efforts to keep
them steady, his hands trembled again, rattling the keys. He did
not pause; he was too anxious, too desperate. Freedom. It was
within his grasp. He tried a third key from the ring and this time
the lock of his leg manacle opened, the heavy metal slipping from
his ankle. He lifted triumphant eyes to Gawyn…
And gasped! His brother had already moved
from the bench and was at Otis’s side. He stopped before the
massive man and stared down at him, obviously trying to figure out
the best way around him. To Damien’s horror, Gawyn lifted a leg
high into the air over the ogre’s bulbous belly.
Suddenly, the ship lurched, pitching to one
side. Damien froze as Gawyn staggered.
For an eternity, Gawyn teetered on one foot,
suspended over Otis’s stomach.
The ship rode the wave, rocking from side to
side.
Gawyn fluttered his arms wildly to keep his
balance.
Damien slowly stood, his eyes wide in dreaded
disbelief.
Gawyn lost his balance, falling like a
freshly cut tree onto the giant’s stomach with a sickening meaty
slap.
With a sharp grunt, Otis opened his eyes in
surprise. He reacted amazingly quick for a fat man just woken from
a sound slumber. His massive arms encircled Gawyn, catching him
around the waist. “Got you!” he growled.
Gawyn kicked and flailed but the ogre’s grip
was too strong, too tight. “Damien!” his brother shouted with a
gasp.
Damien leapt on Otis from behind, wrapping
the chain of his manacled wrists around the giant’s neck.
Otis gagged and reached behind him with one
hand, feeling for his attacker. He still held Gawyn tightly around
the waist as his free hand flailed about for Damien.
Damien evaded the hand, and pulled the chain
tight. His arm muscles were strong from years of pulling the heavy
oars. He grimaced as he tugged at the metal links, digging them
deeper into Otis’s fleshy neck.
Otis’s eyes bulged and his hand grew taut,
releasing Gawyn.
Gawyn leapt free of Otis and dashed for the
wooden stairs that led to the deck above.
Otis reached over his head with both hands
now, desperately searching for Damien, but Damien leaned back, away
from the thrashing appendages. Behind him, Damien could hear the
other slaves stirring, their astonished voices growing louder with
each passing moment. Some urged him on, others called him a dead
fool. He ignored them all, keeping his hold firm on the chains
encircling the taskmaster’s fat neck.
Over the giant’s shoulder, Damien watched
with growing panic as Gawyn began to climb the stairs. He had to go
with Gawyn! He had to make it out. There would never be another
chance. He released his grip on Otis and dove past the ogre, moving
for the stairs behind Gawyn. He landed hard on the wooden steps and
pain speared through his side, but he moved immediately, scrambling
up the steps.
Freedom was within his reach. Ahead of him,
Gawyn swung the hatch open. Black night poured into the ship’s
hold; stars twinkled overhead in the night sky. It was a glorious
sight. Damien’s heart ached to be above ship, to be free. He was so
close… so close…
Suddenly, a fleshy hand encircled his ankle
and jerked him violently back into the pit of darkness. Damien’s
chin clunked hard on the wood as he thumped down the steps. The
coppery taste of blood seeped into his mouth. He clawed forward
with his manacled hands, frantically trying to sink his nails into
the wooden stairs, desperate for any kind of grip he could find.
Damien kicked at the hand, but Otis pulled him down another step
and his kick missed the mark.
Damien looked back up toward his freedom.
Gawyn paused at the entry to reach back for him. Damien stretched
up, pushing his manacled hands forward, willing his fingers to
reach Gawyn, just inches away from grasping his brother’s hand. One
more surge and he would be free. One more…
Otis yanked him back, pulling him out of
Gawyn’s reach.
Gawyn hovered at the opening, indecisive.
Finally, he straightened. “I’ll be back for you, Damien. I
swear.”
No. The word welled in Damien’s throat, in
his heart. Then, the hatch slammed shut, sealing him back in hell.
No!
Otis grabbed Damien by the scruff of his
ripped tunic and hauled him to his feet. “You worthless, good for
nothing wretch!” He punched him hard on his cheek. “Ya want to see
what’s up there so badly?”
Damien’s head ached from the blow; bright
white spots of light flashed before his eyes. Otis moved up the
stairs, pulling a dazed Damien behind him.
The hatch opened and for a moment, despite
all the pain, Damien tasted freedom. The fresh air purified the
staleness in his lungs. The night was clean and cool against his
hot skin.