The Dark One: Dark Knight (109 page)

     De Vere came to greet him. Steven de
Norville stood next to the earl, his handsome face creased with concern to see
Antonius' weary appearance.

     “Sir Antonius,” de Vere acknowledged him.

     Antonius bowed to the earl, indeed weary
from his long ride, but his message was of vital importance. “My lord, I bear a
most urgent message from the duke.”

     De Vere drew in a long, slow breath. “I am
required in London? I take it the proceedings are not going well, them.”

     Antonius shook his head, glancing over his
shoulder at Dane. “Could we discuss this inside, my lord?”

     The earl retreated into the castle without
another word, leading Antonius into Lady Anne's small solar. It was cool and
dim, away from the bright June day.

     “What is it?” the earl demanded quietly.
“What's happened?”

     Antonius took a weary breath. “Grand
trouble, my lord. ‘Tis difficult to know where to start. Guy Stoneley has
escaped the Tower and taken Lady Remington with him. Gaston is positive he
travels to Mt. Holyoak, but all the same, he wants you to be aware that
Stoneley is on the loose and he fears for Dane's safety. He asked that you take
special precautions with the boy, at least until Stoneley can be located.”

     De Vere stared at him a moment, shocked.
“Stoneley escaped? How in the hell did that happen? Good Christ, no one escapes
the Tower!”

     “As near as we can determine, he attacked a
lone papal guard and stole the man's uniform,” Antonius said quietly. “With the
disguise, he was able to abduct his wife. Patrick, Gaston's cousin, was
guarding her at the time and he cannot be located. That is as much as we know.”

     De Vere looked horrified and disgusted. “My
God. Gaston must be frantic!”

     Antonius could only nod, knowing Gaston was
far beyond frantic. He was consumed. “Gaston is riding for Mt. Holyoak as we
speak.”

     “Alone?” de Vere demanded.

     “Aye, my lord. He insisted on going alone.”

     De Vere turned away and crossed himself,
the possibilities cutting him. With everything Gaston had done for him, and for
Henry, he was helpless to assist his friend.

     Except to keep Dane safe.

     “Where do you go now?” he asked the knight.

     “To Deverill,” Antonius replied. “He asked
that I wait for him there. My wife and Lady Skye remain in London under the
protection of Martin de Russe for the time being.”

     De Vere nodded, still stunned with the turn
of events. He glanced at Antonius questioningly. “I am curious, however
misplaced. Did the papal board agree to annulment?”

     “On the basis of Father de Tormo's sworn
statement, they were seriously considering the plea. But beyond that, I do not
know.”

     There was nothing more to say. Antonius had
delivered his message and was obviously exhausted. De Vere turned to de
Norville, lingering near the hearth, and insisted the man show the knight food
and bed.

     The earl of Oxford sat heavily in the
nearest chair, shaking his head in disbelief. Gaston had known so little
happiness in his life, and now he was being subjected to even more heartache.
Was nothing simple about the man?

     As much as he wished to help his friend,
there was nothing he could do. His fate, as well as Lady Remington's, was
consigned to God.

***

     After the men had retreated from the
bailey, Dane had feigned an ill stomach and retreated to the interior of the
castle. They believed he was ill, of course, for he had never once been ill or
injured since he had arrived. So his master let him go and told him to rest a
bit. They had enough faith in him to know the he was not a weakling boy,
attempting to be free of his vigorous lessons.

     Something inside him told him that the
situation was terribly amiss. Antonius could not be at Oxford for a good
reason, and the way he had looked at Dane made his skin crawl.

     Something had happened to his mother.
Instinct told him that he must find out exactly what that was.

     Dane was cunning and silent as he trailed
the earl and Antonius. When they disappeared into Lady Anne's solar, Dane had
simply slipped into the servant's corridor that flanked the room and lodged
himself against the wall by the hidden door. From his position, he could hear
almost all of what was said.

     And what he heard terrified him.

     His father had escaped and his mother was
with him. Dane's eyes stung with hot tears of fear, knowing what his father was
capable of. And his mother, so sweet and loving, was terribly incapable of
defending herself. He felt somewhat heartened to know that Gaston had gone
after them, but his father hated Sir Gaston and would try to kill him, too.

     Not only would Sir Gaston be fighting to
save his mother, but also he would be fighting for his own life against a man
who had never known the taste of compassion, a man with a lump of coal where
his heart should have been.

     A body suddenly bumped into him from behind
in the dark corridor, and Dane startled sharply until he looked into familiar
smoky-gray eyes.

     “It's me.” Trenton hissed. “What's
happened?”

     “What are you doing here?” Dane countered
harshly.

     “I faked a fainting spell in the heat so I
could come inside, too,” Trenton informed him. “What are they saying?”

     Dane looked sick. “My father escaped from
prison and took my mother captive. Antonius says that they are heading for Mt.
Holyoak, and that Sir Gaston is going after them.”

     Trenton's eyes bugged. “Will your father
kill Lady Remington?”

     Dane shook his head miserably. “I do not
know. Trenton, I have got to help her.”

     Trenton frowned. “You can't. There's
nothing you can do.”

     Dane shot to his feet, his entire body
tense. He shook his fist at his brother. “I can, too! I can go to Mt. Holyoak
and protect my mother while Gaston takes care of my father.”

     “You are mad. We can't leave.” Trenton insisted.

     “Not we; me. And I am too going. I have
to!” Dane shot back. “I must protect her, Trenton! She cannot defend herself,
and Gaston may have difficult gaining entrance to the keep,” he sat back down,
less agitated and far more serious. “Do not you see? I can tell my father that
I have returned home to see him and he will let me in. He won't imagine that I
have come to protect my mother from him; if I pretend hard enough, mayhap he
shall believe I am truly glad to see him and he won't suspect how... how much I
hate him.”

     Trenton watched Dane with big eyes. “You
would kill him?”

     Dane shrugged, averting his gaze. “I won't
let him hurt my mother.”

     Trenton eyed him for several long moments,
trying to determine his intentions. He knew how badly Dane resented his father,
and how much he feared him. “You are going to kill him, aren't you?”

     Dane did not answer the question. “I have
got to leave now.”

     Both boys stood up. “I am coming with you,”
Trenton said firmly.

     Dane shook his head firmly. “Nay, Trenton.
You will stay here. I must do this, not you.”

     “But my father is riding north to rescue
your mother, is he not? My father might need me, just as your mother needs
you,” Trenton was already walking away from him. “I am going and you cannot
stop me.”

     Dane caught up to him angrily. “Well….just
do not get in my way, agreed?” he demanded, just to show Trenton that he was
still in charge. “And you do what I say.”

     Trenton snorted. “I always do what you
say.”

     “Aye, you do. Do not forget I am smarter
than you are.”

     “And I am bigger.”

     Foiled, Dane tried to maintain his superior
stance. “I am always right, Trenton. You would not get anywhere without me.”

     Trenton, a head taller than Dane and thirty
pounds heavier, put his hands on his hips in a gesture reminiscent of his
father.

     “Then tell me, Oh Keeper of the Brain. How
are we to get to Mt. Holyoak? Walk?”

     Dane smiled smugly. “Hardly. Come on.”

     It was only at supper that eve that the
earl realized he had not seen Dane since the morning. Trenton, for that matter,
but he wasn't overly concerned. Only when de Norville returned from a search of
the keep saying that the boys were naught to be found did he begin to worry.

     Good Christ, Gaston would have his hide if
Stoneley succeeded in not only capturing Remington, but young Dane as well.

***

     Guy and Remington rode the rest of the
night and all day, without stop. Remington thought she fainted, twice, but she
couldn’t be sure. Mayhap she had only fallen asleep, because she was so damn
tired she could hardly think. Yet one thought occupied her horror-glazed mind
continuously; she was in Guy's clutches.

     He held her tightly, not a word spoken
between them. Remington was literally sick; she knew he was going to kill her,
without a doubt. The only question was when.

     Toward sunset that day, Guy finally reined
the frothing steed to a halt. He did not bother to help Remington from the
horse; he merely tossed her onto the ground and dismounted. While she struggled
to stand, he led the horse to a small stream to water it.

     Remington wildly considered running, but
she had no idea where she was or where she would go. Moreover, Guy would simply
catch her and use it as an excuse to beat her silly.

     She gazed at his taut back as he watered
the animal, wrestling with her disbelief. She still could hardly grasp the very
fact that he had captured her right from under Gaston's nose. It was enough to
bring horrified tears to her eyes, tears she quickly dashed away. She would not
let him see her fear.

     “By now your lover should be on his way,''
Guy commented, gazing off across the rolling fields. “Lord, it's been a long
time since I have seen these sights. I never knew I would miss the smell of
grass or the stench of an opossum.”

     Remington did not say anything; she was too
terrified to reply. Guy looked up from the horse, his ice-blue eyes focusing on
her. “You look quite delicious, Remi. De Russe spares no expense on you, does
he?”

     She did not know what to say, keeping her
head down and her eyes averted.

     Guy let go of the reins and stalked toward
her. Remington could feel him coming closer and her breathing quickened, all of
the terror in her heart rushing to her veins and causing her to shake
violently. She heard his footfalls on the grass like crashing boulders, deafening
to her ears. When his hand reached out to touch her face, she nearly fainted
with fright.

     He felt her sway and grabbed her by the
hair. “No, you do not. You will not shy from me. It has been far too long since
I have seen you or tasted you, Remi. You shall not back away.”

     Sharp little pants came to her lips, cries
of fear, but she bit them back. With every breath, it was more and more
difficult.

     Guy's grip on her hair softened and he
began stroking her hair, touching her shoulder. His expression was almost
loving.

     “Tell me, sweet. Was de Russe as good a
lover as I? Was he as tender, or as fulfilling? You can be honest.”

     She knew her honestly would most likely
bring severe injury. “No, Guy, he wasn't,” her lips were quivering, her eyes
filling with tears.

     “Tell me the truth,” Guy purred, his hands
gently touching her shoulders. “I want to know.”

     “I told you,” she whispered, his touch
bringing bile to her throat.

     Guy massaged her shoulders, smelled her
hair. Remington wished she would die.

     “You look even better than I remembered,”
Guy whispered against her ear. “Your body is fuller and more luscious. I think
I would like to taste you, sweet.”

     She did cringe from him then. “No, Guy.
You...'tis my woman's time.”

     He was upon her in a minute. “What does
that matter to me? Spread your cloak. I will have you now.”

     The tears came. She took a step back,
attempting to refuse, but he grabbed her wrists roughly, even as he tore her
cloak from her shoulders and threw it on the ground. Remington began to
struggle, fighting him with every ounce of strength she possessed, until he hit
her and knocked her cold.

     When she came to, it was upon her damp
cloak with Guy standing several feet away, eating something she could not see.
His back was to her and he didn’t seem particularly interested in her.  Having
no idea how long she had been unconscious, or what had transpired during that
time, she realized she didn’t want to know any of it. All of this, this hell
she was forced to endure, was more horrific than anything she could have
imagined. Closing her eyes, she feigned unconsciousness for the rest of the
night.