Set to Flame (Flame Series) (14 page)

Marcus’s hands inched their way around her, pulled her closer, and he held her to him.  “Please, let me see that the families of the traitors are properly buried,” she whispered just inches from his ear making him shudder. 

He felt himself nod, despite his previous determination to send her away.  That was the least he could do for those people he would be killing, allowing them her gentle hands and tender heart to lay them to rest.

Alena
led him to the blankets she had lain by the fire and pressed him down upon them, taking a seat next to him.  Sitting cross-legged she pulled his head down to rest in her lap, her soft fingers stroking through his hair, soothing him.  Before he knew it his eyes began to grow heavy, and he allowed sleep to win him over.

Chapter 7

They moved rapidly toward the next keep, their fleet horses eating up the distance to
Widdrington.  Alena didn’t have time to think about anything but guiding her horse safely across the ground it flew over.  Widdrington was significantly larger than the last stronghold at Burradon and the men already had a plan of strategy that required her to sleep alone, hidden in the woods and hopefully out of danger while the men slept in the keep and would be better able to take it by stealth.  Marcus had already insisted she hold his coin.  She knew why he had, she wasn’t stupid.  He fully expected not to survive this plan of madness cooked up by the devil himself.  If they did manage to take Widdrington, would they be able to take the next one or the one after that.  To take five keeps with only five men was not only absurd, it was suicide.

Alena
had not had any time at all to think about this until they stopped some distance from Widdrington.  She brought the exhausted Maria to a halt beside Marcus’s prancing Ebony, a sleek black colt Garrick had given him after he had given up Maria to Alena.  Each animal was magnificent in its own right, and she did not think there was another creature in all the land that could keep up with them. 

She slid from the saddle, her knees almost buckling so she was forced to stand for a moment with the help of her tight grip on the saddle to steady her.  She heard Marcus’s voice than
Halvor’s response although she had no idea of what they spoke, for it suddenly washed over her, the thought of their impending death.  She had just enough time to stumble into the bushes and drop to all fours before emptying her stomach.  She felt Marcus’s presence behind her while she heaved herself dry, then he gently stepped forward and helped her to her feet. 

“We have left you extra blankets,”
Halvor said indicating the pile next to Maria.  He turned away and remounted along with the other men. 

This was it.  Just as quickly as they had come together they were parting. 
Forever?  

“I’ll see you in the morning,” Marcus said as if he were bidding her goodnight at
Holmesfield.

“Promise me,” she demanded when he had already turned and taken two steps away from her.

Marcus turned back to her, studied her and smiled.  His steps carried him back, and he paused for only a hint of time before he bent and pressed a kiss to her scarred cheek.  “I promise.  I will see you in the morning,” he said, and she felt him press his dagger, still in its sheath, into her hands.  With a confident stride, he turned from her and walked to Ebony then vaulted into the saddle.  Without a backward glance, they rode away.

Dusk came on quickly while she ate stale bread and drank from her wine skin until it was nearly empty and she felt more relaxed.  Darkness came to envelope her just minutes after she packed the remaining bread away and made herself warm for the night wrapped snuggly in the blankets. 
Alena had no expectations of sleep that night but awoke with a start after sleeping for how long of a time she did not know.  Her eyes registered dawn was not breaking through the darkness of the night and immediately closed her eyes again hoping sleep would overwhelm her so that time would pass obliviously for her. 

Maria gave a soft
nicker, and she knew within an instant that was what had awakened her.  Every muscle in her body tensed as she listened intently, for what she did not know.  She now knew what Maria knew, they were not alone.  Without a sound, she pulled Marcus’s dagger from the sheath she had tied around her waist and waited.  She waited so long she felt as if she were going deaf for not a sound came to her, not the rustle of a rodent in the leaves or the shifting of Maria.  When the sound finally came to her ears, she lurched to her feet and away from the snap of a twig just behind the tree she had propped herself against. 

A dark form lunged at her and she brought the dagger up, slashing toward her attacker.  She almost lost her grip on her only weapon as it sliced its way into flesh.

“You bitch!” the angry voice cursed.  The injury did not slow him, but through the moonlight, she saw the flash of his own weapon, a wicked  blade that glinted as it was pulled from the sheath tied across the man’s chest.  Alfred she knew within an instant. 

“You don’t want to do this,” she insisted, and she heard the grim fear that seized the breath in her throat and made her heart thunder away as if it might strike from her chest.

“Of course I do honey,” he said with a laugh.  Marcus had threatened the two men if they should lay a hand upon her.  It was a threat she did not think anyone should take idly but apparently this man had. 

“Marcus will kill you,” she warned as she wondered if she could outrun him.  He was not a fat man, an overly small man.  He did not have the hulking form of
Halvor or even Marcus, those two she felt she could easily outrun.  No, this man was lithe like Garrick, a little taller with longer legs.  He would not be slowed by bulk.  If Marcus had not warned her of him, she would not have seen him for the evil man he was.  Rather handsome with his brown hair falling to his shoulders, it was healthy hair that seemed to accentuate his handsome face, rather down or pulled back out of his way.  His eyes were a warm brown, his smile was always a quick one that seemed to be intoxicating.  There was nothing about this man that would disturb her but Marcus had told her enough to know this man who had come for her was evil in its purest form.

Alfred laughed.  “Marcus won’t be alive come morning.”  His laugh ended, and he said in what sounded a sincere effort to assuage her, “Come now it doesn’t have to be hard on you.”

“Keep away,” she warned as he took a step toward her. 

“I’m not playing with you.  If you fight I will make you regret it.”

Every instinct up until the last statement was to flee, run as hard and as fast as her legs would carry her.  When the words left his mouth it took only a moment for them to spark a rage so deep she lunged toward him, her knife raised.  The last thing Alfred expected was an attack from her.  His knife only sliced across her forearm before hers drove into his chest, to the hilt.  She felt him stagger backward, the move nearly pulling the dagger out of her hand.  It was her only weapon and she could not give it up, even if it did protrude from her attacker’s chest.  With a hard yank, she heard it slide back through the bone it had penetrated, making a sickening, sucking noise before it came free. 

Alfred staggered backward, his hands held out, his face a horrified ghoulish glow in the light of the moon as he tried to catch his life’s blood that spurted from the open wound in his chest.  Then he was gone.  The life drained from his face before he hit the ground and did not move. 

A sob escaped Alena.  She lifted her hand still gripping the dagger and pressed the back of it to her lips to stifle the sound.  Drawing in two gulping breaths of air, she moved toward Maria, sheathing the dagger.  Quickly she tied the blankets to her saddle and led the horse in the direction the men had ridden earlier.  It felt as if she travelled all night before coming to the edge of the forest to see the silhouette of the keep ahead, the glow of the warm torches and the safe walls.  Tears stabbed at the back of her eyes, the moon told her the night was only half over and all she wanted in the entire world was to find Marcus.  She didn’t care if it meant it would ruin their damned king’s plans, at the moment she did not even care if it meant the death of those women.  Alena knew she was frightened, unlike she had been in months, so frightened her knees shook with it, and she felt lost in a vast world full of evil, always trying to take her into its clutches.  She stood there, her grip tight on Maria’s bridle and waited, for what she did not know.  Sometime in the night she fancied she saw movement on the wall, but she saw no more and continued to wait. 

Dawn broke the sky and painted the landscape with its vibrant colors.  Every shade of red seemed to explode across the sky as it heralded the light of day and still she waited numbly.  She felt if she just waited long enough everything would be okay, Marcus would be okay.  The gates of the keep opened before the sun had fully broke across the horizon and she held her breath.  First Garrick rode from beneath the archway, then
Halvor and it seemed as if no one else would follow, then Wade road beneath the portcullis.  Time had no meaning, the air held no life, the forest was still as death as her eyes strained toward the opening.  When Ebony’s head appeared, then his shoulders and finally the man upon his back Alena felt as if she might faint. 

Quickly she vaulted onto her horse’s back and raced passed the other three men to draw rein next to Marcus.  He was handsome.  She wanted to fling herself at him, to cry as he held her.  She wanted him to make her feel safe, to banish the memory of the blade driving into Alfred.  Before she could make a fool of herself, she cautioned it might not be the best move on her part, and forced herself to remain calm.  She felt as if she had run a marathon, as if she had held her breath through the entire night.  She saw the strain upon Marcus’s face and for a moment was confused by the damp clothes and hair.  She cast a glance to the other men who had halted and saw they too appeared to have freshly cleaned themselves and their clothing. 

“What has happened?” he asked to indicate the arm that Alfred’s blade had sliced open.  By the look in the gentle eyes upon her, she knew he saw the terror that would be a part of her until this journey ended.

“Alfred returned last night,” she said as he reached to inspect the wound.

“That’s why we couldn’t find the bastard this morning,” Garrick said coldly from his position in the lead.  “What happened to the cowardly swine?” he asked, looking about them.

“I killed him,” she said with a level voice.  That had been easier to say than she had thought it would be.

“Can you travel?” Garrick asked, edging back to bring his horse close to hers.  The stallion moved to nip at the mare but the man on his back anticipated the move before the horse even knew and edged him a little closer still, pulling his head to the side.  He looked at the cut that might require some stitching but would not be a mortal wound.

“I’ll be fine to keep up,” she said with an edge of anger she felt at his question.  She did not doubt he would jump at an opportunity to leave her behind.

“Then we can linger here no longer.  Soon the village will awaken and attend to those inside,” Garrick said turning and riding away. 

“I am well, it can wait,” she assured Marcus as he regarded her.  Side by side they rode throughout the day, at noon they stopped to eat and tend to her arm. 

“I want to be taught how to fight,” Alena informed the men as they sat near the stream allowing the horses to drink.

“Why do you need to be taught how to fight?” Wade asked, his voice full of haughty sarcasm she would expect from a man such as
he.

“I was not speaking to you,” she snapped.  “I thought
Halvor or Marcus could teach me.”

“Why?” Garrick asked quietly.

“So I can fight.  I want to fight.”

The look Wade cast her was the look many an insane person would receive she imagined. 

“I think it’s a superb idea,” Halvor said.  “All my sisters know how to defend themselves.”

“I don’t want to just learn how to defend myself,”
Alena clarified.  “I want to learn how to fight like a warrior.”

“Absolutely not,” Marcus said with a great deal of irritation.  “I can offer you all the protection you need.”

“I don’t want just protection.  I want to fight.”

“Who do you want to fight?” Garrick asked. 

Alena shrugged.  “Does it have to be just one person.  I want to know how it feels to hold a sword in my hand, to be able to wield it like one of you.  I want to be part of a battle, to fight instead of cower.”

“No,” Marcus said again.

Alena cast him a dark look before turning back to plead her case with Garrick and Halvor.  “I want to help on this mission the king has sent you on.  Your numbers are small and I want to provide an extra arm but I cannot unless I am taught.”

Despite Marcus’s angry stare Garrick nodded his approval and no one, not even Marcus would gainsay him.  It was decided Garrick was best with a sword,
Halvor would teach her how to defend herself with her hands, Wade would teach her techniques to use while on horseback while attacking or fleeing and they all decided it was Marcus who would teach her the proper way to use the dagger.  Marcus seemed happy about none of this but by the time she completed her first lesson with Garrick she was exhausted.  The man was inhuman in strength and speed.  She was quite agile, but each time she dodged he was there to meet her as if he could anticipate her every move.  He knocked her off her feet time and again, brought his sword crashing down on hers to knock it out of her hand.  As far as her progress went Garrick made it quite clear he was not pleased with it when he finally sheathed his sword and strolled away. 

“Do you still want to fight?” Marcus asked, coming to offer her a hand to assist her from the ground.

“Yes,” she said irritably knocking his hand away and climbing to her feet under her own strength.  She handed his sword back she had practiced with, though her arms were so tired it was all she could do to lift it. 

The village where they found warm beds that night was the largest they had seen so far, and it only took a few quick inquiries to find them all lodging and for Garrick to find himself a willing whore for the night.  The structure was made of aged wood that had long since turned brittle and gave the low roofed building an appearance of being made out of kindling.  Marcus had noticed their thatched roof was in need of repairs before it would keep the rain out.  Not his concern since the sky was clear on this night.  What was his concern was providing a warm bed for
Alena which he had done so, although it did not appear to be clean.  Now, as they lay between their blankets, Alena snuggled against him, Marcus found a difficult situation growing more uncomfortable thanks to Garrick and his whore that sounded as if they were in spitting distance on the other side of the thin curtain.