The Dark Lady (50 page)

Van gathered Anna up into her arms, putting her arm underneath her trembling legs to carry her. She could feel the cold and congealed blood on the back of her gown. It stuck to her arm as she made her way to the fallen log where she had left Damien.

Anna threw her arms around Van’s hot and sweaty neck and burrowed deep into her embrace. Her hot tears ran across Van’s neck and slid down her chest.

The anger she’d harbored, the pain and the confusion Van had felt since her mother’s death fell upon her at once. The guilt, at allowing this child to be hurt, at all the ones she loved that she was lying to, consumed her. The terror she felt, when she thought of all those she had put in danger by just being here, combined together and buried her.

She lost all conscious thought patterns as her swirling emotions gathered together into a black, encompassing rage. Van did not remember mounting Damien and was only vaguely aware of the small frame she protectively held against her chest.

Holding both arms around the girl, she allowed the huge animal beneath her to gallop. His stride was smooth and she had no difficulties keeping her balance with her thighs.

They went the long way, through the gate and back around. Her anger continued to boil over, spilling the hatred and rage into every thought and breath she had.

Every man had gathered in the courtyard awaiting her return. The Dark Knight, released from all restraints, freed as she had never been free before, spotted Ryan Deumount in the center of the men.

CHAPTER 23

Van tightened her thighs against Damien’s heaving sides and urged him to a stop several feet away from the standing crowd of onlookers. The men stared, shifting back at forth and darting nervous glances at her.

She nodded to Gary to come get his sister before she swung her leg over the neck of the panting horse. She slid to the ground with the frightened girl still in her steady arms. She sensed, rather than heard, the collective gasp as she dropped Anna gently to her bare feet, her blood covered arm sliding from beneath the young girl.

“
Easy, Damien,” she muttered as the animal’s ears quivered and his nostrils flared. Her voice came out in a calmness that did nothing to betray the rampaging anger that was racking her entire system.

She steadied Anna against him and turned away.

She held her head straight ahead and didn’t even look at Gary as he approached her. She kept her gait smooth and deliberate.

Her mind contained only one thing, the death of Ryan Deumount. Her mind whirled with options on how to accomplish what needed to be done.

She was in need of a weapon and knew that no one would willingly give one over to her. She watched the bright sunlight glitter off Gary’s sword as it swung from his hip as he hurried toward his sister.

Gary’s eyes were distracted and hollow as he stared at Anna. Van grinned. His distraction would be all she needed.

When Gary was directly across from her, she side stepped, her shoulder slamming into his. He fought for balance. She swiftly pulled the sword from his scabbard. Her gait increased and she strode quickly toward the men.

She took in Gary’s shout behind her, but the words did not reach through the anger and guilt that swirled through her, clouding out everything like a dust storm. She saw the looks of astonished surprise on the men’s faces before her, but ignored them. Somewhere deep inside she knew she was making a mistake. Her conscious screamed at her from the depths of the Dark Knight, but this too she pushed away.

The Dark Knight’s deep graveled voice screamed for Deumount to show his cowardly face.

The men parted before her, leaving Ryan to face her alone. Wasting no time and allowing no chance for anyone to interfere she swung the heavy sword at him.

Ryan’s face dropped in shock. He leapt back and barely had time to pull his sword free and bring it up to protect himself.

Steel clanged against steel, its echo rippling through the silent crowd. The shock of the blow raced up the muscles in her arms and through her shoulder. Her face tightened as a vicious grin crept across her lips. Her chest heaved as she gasped for breath and her heart raced.

Exhilaration filled her in bright flashes of power and desire. The need to humiliate this man ached deep within her. She wanted more than to see his death. She wanted to weaken him. To not only kill him but to destroy him.

She would kill him slowly. Tease him first before she pounced on him and slaughtered him. She laughed silently inside.

She tried lifting the sword and feigned a need to struggle with it. Ryan watched her closely and a knowing look crossed his face.

The first rule of war was never to underestimate your opponent, and he had just broken that rule. She began to circle around him. Her lips spread wide in a smile of pure joy.

Peter rushed forward, but a hand on his arm jerked him to a stop. “Let me go.” He spun on the man, a snarl fixed on his face.

“
My lord, I cannot do that.” Grant held his arm tightly. “He will not hurt her but if you interfere, you might.”

“
I will not hurt her, now let me go.” He jerked his arm free and took a step forward. His heart plunged into the dirt below him, and the pain shot up through him as it ground beneath his feet. Fear for his wife fought with the common sense that told him that Grant had spoken the truth.

Vanessa struggled to lift the weapon. Her arms shook as she swung again, the heavy sword wobbling in her grip. Peter’s breath stopped as the clang of weapons drilled painfully into his head.

“
He will only protect himself,” Grant said calmly at his ear. “If you distract her she may hurt herself.”

Peter took a half step forward and forced himself to stop, knowing in his heart that his friend was right.

“
Let her wear herself out. It will not take long. I am surprised she can even lift that thing.” Grant gestured at the two people who circled each other. One was in full armor and the other in a thin dress that was covered in blood and torn from hip to ankle.

Vanessa struggled with another swing and the report of connecting metal rang across the silent courtyard.

Grant shook his hand at them. “See he only stops her blows.”

Peter grunted at him in anger. Grant stepped away. Peter knew he would have given the same advice, but that made it no easier to stand aside while the woman he loved was in danger.

Van circled slowly, her heart racing in anticipation of the work to come. She fought to raise the sword, giving him plenty of time to prepare for her blow. She swung the heavy blade, one that was much like the one that lay hidden in her large wardrobe trunk.

The sun peeked from behind the clouds, spilling its light across the warriors who bunched together. She kept her focus on the smug-looking man before her.

He smiled. His arms and legs appeared relaxed and unprepared. His responses would be slow and jerky.

Sweat began to trickle down the small of her back and down her temples starting to sting her eyes. She ignored it all and never looked away from the enemy.

“
What did you do to that poor girl?” Van asked with a deep gasp of unsteady breath and took another halfhearted swing.

“
I did nothing to her. Whatever she told you is a lie,” Ryan said louder than necessary.

She assumed it was for the benefit of the others watching.

Van took another swing, this time putting more of her weight behind it. Unprepared for the extra strength she put into it, Ryan’s grip on the sword slipped and it almost fell from his hand. One more hard blow right on top of the first and he was forced to swing at her. His swing pushed her back long enough for him to secure his grip on his sword once again.

“
Do not lie. I know what you did,” Van yelled, also for the benefit of the crowd. “Taking a woman against her will, forcing her, the way only a cowardly man would do.” She smiled at the look of outrage that crossed his face.

She forced him into another partial turn, until he was almost facing the men, maneuvering him, like a puppet in a dance. She knew she could make him do whatever she wanted him to do, move him wherever she needed him. It was much too easy and she was disappointed.

She had hoped for more of a fight than she was getting, something to relieve the anger and pain that pricked at her. “Are you a coward?”

Calling a man a coward was one of the worst insults you could deliver and very few men would allow it. Not from a man, and certainly not from a woman.

Van smiled as he shouted directly into her face, “I did not force her. She was willing. She wanted it.”

This bought a cry of outrage from Anna.

Van heard the pain in Anna’s voice, but tried to ignore it, to not let it distract her from her goal. She swung Gary’s sword at him with enough force that the vibrations from the impact trembled down her arms and into her spine.

Van swung again, dancing him around as she went, until he was facing directly into the mass of the men. Her voice trembled with anger when she spoke. “Willing? Does a woman look like that if she is willing?” She jerked her head toward Anna but did not take her eyes off of Ryan, who was now tense and prepared. “A woman does not end up bloody and bruised from willing and wanting.”

She swung hard at him, a full blow, and smiled at the shock on his rage-twisted face. He took a step toward her. Good, she thought. She wanted him angry, wanted him to fight back.

Peter’s heart seemed to bounce between his stomach and his throat and he felt nauseous. He wanted to go to her, but Grant once more grabbed his arm, holding him back. “She is going to be hurt, let me go.”

Peter could see the joy in her eyes as Ryan lost control of his temper. He seemed to forget who he was fighting and of all the people who stood watching.

A quick flash of memory crossed Peter’s mind. He clearly saw Vanessa panting heavy and apparently lost in anger pulling at his leg as he sat astride Jackal. It had been an act to distract him until the cinch came loose.

All an act and he knew now that she was doing it again.

He looked quickly to Grant. “She is baiting him. She wants him to fight back and she is going to die.” His voice was tight with panic and his whole body seemed to shudder.

Grant shook his head and held him tightly. Peter looked back to the grisly scene before him.

Vanessa continued her verbal bombardment, as she swung the sword harder and faster at him. “Besides, from what I hear you cannot rise to pleasure a woman unless you are hurting her. Even then it only works some of the time.”

The men behind Peter gasped at this and Ryan growled in a deep, deadly warning.

Vanessa seemed to ignore the threat and laughed. Peter’s was amazed at her gall and then his face froze. His mind tried to take him somewhere else at the sound of that laugh, but he could not decide where or to what. He knew that laugh and he had the feeling he had seen all this before. He stared at the back of her, the muscles rippling beneath the dress, now sweat drenched and clinging to her back.

Vanessa’s voice drew him back to the deadly reality before him. “Perhaps it doesn’t work for women. Do you like something other than women?”

Peter watched his eyes as Ryan looked up into the faces of all the men. Anger and embarrassment washed the color from his face. Two dark red splotches appeared high on his cheeks as the rage enveloped him. “You damned bitch.”

Light reflected off his broadsword as Ryan attacked.

Vanessa moved, but not fast enough and his sword raked across her bicep, blood spilling onto her decimated dress, she didn’t seem to notice.

Peter screamed for her and lunged forward. He was pulled to a stop by Grant on one side and Richard on the other. They dragged him back to his place, if not to his senses. He struggled to get to her, even though he could see she was defending herself well.

One blow fell after another from Ryan’s sword, silencing her mouth.

She fought back blow for blow. No one moved or spoke as the battle went on. Peter knew they all feared that interference would result in injury to her.

Her weak and wobbly strokes from before were replaced with hard, fast, and confident blows. Blood drained down her arm, mixing with the innocent blood that had started it all.

Peter yanked his arms free from his captors but stood as he was. He watched with a mixture of pride and fear as she battled. Her face was pale from lack of blood and she was beginning to look exhausted. Sweat ran down her face in small rivulets.

One hard blow drove her leg back behind her. Peter gasped and put a hand to his heaving chest.

Vanessa appeared about to fall. She had one leg out straight and the other curled beneath her. Her bare leg glistened with blood and sweat in the shimmering heat of the day.

She fought for balance and Peter stepped forward.

Richard grasped his arm. “Stop, Peter. You must not interfere. It is an act...and I helped perfect it.” His voice was soft with wonder.

Peter glanced at Richard’s confused face, but took no time to ask any questions. He looked back at the fight in to time to see the gleam of victory in Ryan’s eyes.

Ryan stepped quickly into the space beside her outstretched leg. He raised his sword for the winning blow, but Vanessa stood quickly with her sword before her. Standing straight, she was face to face with him, her sword close to his throat and he had no choice, but to step back.