Set to Flame (Flame Series) (13 page)

“It means the people who run those holdings are loyal to Prince John.  It means we must destroy their homes, take their lives or Richard will take the lives of those women back there and destroy all of us.”

A sudden urge to vomit overtook Alena.  Now she understood them, the lines on the faces around them.  It wasn’t the worry over going to war, after all they weren’t going to war.  War was an opportunity for both sides to be victors.  There were no options for these men, no choices could be made.  To see their families again, they had to succeed, or they would lose everything, most importantly those women being held by the King.  What was wrong with men who held power?  Was it not enough to have power, why did they have to have all the power? 
You are such a fool
, she admonished, feeling as if a fist had slammed into her chest.  How could someone such as her be so naïve as to believe there would ever be peace in her life? 

~  
~   ~

The glow of the campfire warmed Marcus’s face and tried to chase the numbness away that clung to him.  As a soldier, he was lucky he had never experienced a day such as today before.  He prayed fervently to God he would never have to experience it again.  He couldn’t get it out of his head, the sounds the smells.  Death, as King Richard commanded no one had been left alive.  No one had time to escape.

“Marcus,”
Alena’s commanding voice said from the other side of the fire.  “Eat,” she said casting her eyes toward his hands and the bowl he just became aware he held.  He looked down to see porridge filled it.  Obediently he began to eat, not tasting any of it before it hit his stomach and turned into a rock. 

Camp was
quiet, all the soldiers seemed as morose as Marcus.  Never had he seen Garrick’s army brought low by their actions.  They had done a number of dastardly deeds in their lives but even for the most ruthless what they had witnessed today, had taken part in, left them quiet and thoughtful.  Five more keeps, how would any of them make it through.  One thing was for sure, not a one of them would ever find their souls in heaven. 

Through the crackle of the flames, he saw
Alena with her head bent over one of his tunics.  Sweet Alena.  She had fallen into the role of taking care of him, at least trying.  She was no cook, if any of her attempts had been edible they were just barely.  He had tried to lie to her to bolster her confidence, but she saw right through and had cursed at him, slung the food and trencher at his head.  Her temper amused him, he had recognized the unleashed rage at Holmesfield, but now that she was among the army she held nothing back.  Let all her emotions out that she must have kept bottled inside all those years for not a one did she leave unexpressed.  Not even when she saw the children, what they had done to them.  She had cried over all their bodies while the men stood around her and wished they were far away.  Garrick had ordered all the innocent lives that were extinguished to be given a proper burial.  Alena stepped into the task as if it had been commanded of her, and had done the best possible under the circumstances. 

Now she sat cross-legged, her skirt tucked beneath her and sewed on his tunic as if she had not seen the evil today.  She knew he took part in it, yet she did not accuse him of butchery, had not raged at any of them.  Instead, she looked into their faces and smiled as if to reassure them it wasn’t their fault.  Then she saw to his comfort and his young squire having sent him off to sleep.  He looked to the boy huddled in his blanket and wondered what nightmares would be his tonight.  Brandon was younger than he would like to have as a squire but since his former squire had been knighted while he was a prisoner he had only the pages to choose from.  The boy was willing enough, but the carnage today had left its mark on him as it had the other boys.  He slept near a fire where
Alena had settled him along with Sutton, Roland’s squire and Tate, Halvor’s.  If one could overlook the cooking he had no doubt Alena would make an excellent mother, a kind and loving mother as well as a protective one.

The fire glistened off her clean hair.  She had insisted she, Marcus and Brandon bathe after they had completed the burials.  Marcus informed her harshly, although he regretted it now, that the task would not clean away what they had done that day.  She had insisted it would not hurt, and it had not.  Though it had not wiped the memory away it had taken away the blood, the smell, the feel of death that seemed to cling to his skin.  Yes, she would make a good mother.  He continued to watch her, and he could not help but wonder why she stayed.  Despite what she had seen them do, what she had to do, she made no
mention of leaving his side.  Perhaps it would be better if she did.  He could let her take Maria and give her all the coins he had, it would take her far and give her a chance to get on her feet.  Give her a chance to be free of this hell.

His eyes scanned the area around them.  Many of the men had already fallen into a restless slumber, while others were like him and would be lucky to find any sleep at all on this night.  He saw their faces ghoulishly illuminated by their fires, staring into the flames, perhaps contemplating the futures of their souls forever burning in the pit of hell.  Steps swung him around, and he looked up at Garrick and
Halvor.

“We need to speak to you,” Garrick said with a sharp look directed at
Alena. 

“Sit down,” Marcus said, making no move to rise or send
Alena away. 

“Leave us,” Garrick ordered as he took a seat next to Marcus.

“No,” was her reply and she never even raised her head from her work. 

He heard the frustrated sigh escape Garrick.

“She stays,” Marcus replied looking at his commander, knowing full well he could make her leave if he so wished.

“Very well,” Garrick relinquished the fight as
Halvor took a seat between Garrick and Alena. 

Marcus watched as
Alena turned to the big man, smiled and patted his knee.   It was a comforting gesture before she sat the material aside as if she had been invited into the conversation.  Marcus found he did not like her touching another man, even if it was as simple an act as to bring him comfort.

Garrick glared her way before turning his attention to Marcus.  “I’m leaving my army behind on the morrow,” he said, and Marcus knew for whatever reason he had already made up his mind.

“May I ask why?” Marcus asked, casting a glance to Alena who leaned toward Garrick so she might also learn what was to come for them.

“We have five more keeps to take.  At the pace the army moves, it will take more than two fortnights.  If only a handful of us attack on fast horses we could accomplish the task in nearly one.”

“Would we be successful?” Marcus asked, casting a glance to Halvor.  Garrick might lose all he had gained over the years, a bride he never met, but Halvor would lose his family home and the lives of all his sisters.  He would be far less reckless when making a decision.

“We can be,” Garrick said with a nod and Marcus saw the turmoil of the task written across his brow.  The only way a handful of them could be successful was to ride hard and hit hard.  There would be no army sharing the burden of the kill but just a few who would have to kill many.

“Who would go?” Marcus asked, turning back to his commander.  The fire turned his dark features even darker, his black eyes looked like the devil’s and Marcus could not help but feel as if he was making a deal with him that would haunt his soul for the rest of his days.

“You,
Halvor, Alfred and Wade.”

Alfred and Wade, though not regular members of Garrick’s army he knew them well.  Mercenaries who joined them on occasion for the rich plunder that could be had at some of the holdings Garrick attacked.  They were evil men, but he had to admit they knew how to kill and kill well.  Had they been reduced to this?  Had they become so desperate they would depend on cut throats such as those, heartless men who had no qualms for their actions?  Marcus looked to
Halvor and knew that indeed they had. 

“I think it’s a good idea,” Marcus heard himself say.  Was it a good idea?  Wouldn’t it be a better idea to kill their king and save
Halvor’s family then ride to oblivion where they would never be found and could never be punished?  Marcus had pledged an oath to Garrick as had Halvor long ago.  Garrick had led them to hell and back more than once, they had to have faith he could do so again.  For without that faith what did they have?

“We leave on the morrow, and I will release the army to return to their homes,” Garrick said with a nod.  He and
Halvor rose together and left the light of the little fire. 

Silence fell between him and the woman across from him.  Would he ever see her again after this night?  If she was wise she would get as far away from him as fast as she could go.

The light touch of Alena’s hand jolted him from his thoughts.  He did not know how long he sat thinking of her leaving, but now she stood beside him, taking the empty bowl from his hand. 

“I wish to speak to you,” he said taking her long, delicate fingers gently in his own and pulling her down to sit on the ground beside him. 

Her movements were graceful as she settled onto the ground, so close her body brushed his.  He found he could not release the warmth he held in his hand so clung to her as if his life depended on her presence, her closeness, one last time.

“I want you to take Maria tomorrow, and I will give you plenty of coin to start a life somewhere.  I know it’s not what Garrick could have offered you, but it is all I have, and it should be enough to make you comfortable for a while.”

Her cat eyes studied him, but he found he could not read any of her thoughts.  “Do you not wish to have my company beyond this day?”

“That’s not it,” he assured her, tightening his grip.

“Then tell me what else it is.”

Marcus felt his anger brewing.  This was difficult enough without her being innocent of what they
faced, he would have to spell it out to her when he did not wish to speak of it at all.

“Are you so daft you don’t know what it is?” he asked.

Her dark brows snapped together, and she jerked her hand from his.  “I am not daft, but I am not a mind reader either.  Why is my presence no longer wanted?”

Marcus shot to his feet and paced to the other side of the fire.  “I want you with me always
Alena.  Always!” he said with anger and frustration running through him.  “But I cannot take you with me,” he said turning to look at her as she rose to her graceful height, the flames enchanting her beauty.  He marveled that he no longer saw her scars, no longer saw any of her imperfections.  With the fire’s glow touching her, she appeared as if she was a true angel and he felt close to weeping.

“You will not take me,” she said with defiance.  “I will come with you.”

Marcus could not keep his eyes from rolling.  “This is not a choice for you to make.  This is what we have to do.  This is about protecting you.”

“Protecting me?” she asked with a snort as she came around the fire, and for a heart stopping moment it looked like the flames reached for her.  “Who will take care of you?  From the day I met you, I have cared for you,” she declared coming to stand in front of him.  “You all would have died in the prison.  I risked everything to protect you all, and I will not stop now just because you are to
o dimwitted to understand this.”

Marcus took a step away from her anger and realized he was giving her the upper hand by doing so.

“I will be forever in your debt for what you did for us.  You have proven yourself very brave, braver than any of us.” 

“Then why do you discard me now when you need me more than you needed me then?” she asked, and he heard the tears behind her anger.

“Because,” Marcus said stepping closer and taking her by the elbow and pulling her against him.  He felt every curve of her body come into contact with his, uncowed she looked up at him and waited for an answer.  “We travel with Alfred and Wade, do you not know what kind of men they are?”

She shook her head slightly, and he tightened his grip as if he would lose her if he did not.  “Those men’s souls are
black, they have no voice inside their mind that makes them hesitate when they are doing something wrong.  I have seen them rape women and children.  They taunt them and then kill them.  These are the men we have to have with us so we can do what has to be done.”

A small laugh escaped her lips and he felt in that instant like beating her.  It was an impulse he had never had before but the fact that she was not taking this seriously angered him as nothing else could.  He could not protect her if she did not see what was at stake here.  “You would not rape and taunt them.  You have a duty to do Marcus, a problem our king has given you.  You have families to protect.  It is treason to go against the king.  The people who have gone with Prince John know this, they have sentenced themselves.  They knew the risk they took, they had a choice.  You have no choice, you have an order, and despite the ugliness of it all, it must be done to guarantee the lives of not only those women the King keeps but all of the people of the kingdom.  A country full of traitors cannot stand.” 

Alena was thankful for Marcus’s warmth for cold shame shot through her entire body.  Ghalib had told her this once before he made her watch one of his soldiers beaten to death.  It was a moment that made up one of her many nightmares but even then, as the first blow had landed on the bound man, she knew the words to be true.