The Dark One: Dark Knight (36 page)

     “To be honest, I do not know,” Charles
toyed with a piece of grass.  “I was scared of his reputation, I suppose.  The
knights that told me of his coming told horrible stories about his fierceness
and ruthlessness.  When I heard about the soldier he killed in the bailey, and
the fight at the fair, I was all the more frightened of him.”

     “And that is why you have been holed up in
the tower?” she asked gently.

     He nodded, embarrassed.  “When he came into
Dane’s room this morn, I thought I was going to throw up from fright.  But
he’s…different.  He’s….”

     “He’s a mortal man with intelligence and
compassion,” Remington finished, giving him a little shove in the arm.  “He’s
not your hated Dark One; Devil’s Spawn, or whatever else he is called.”

     “He’s not, Remi, I will admit it,” Charles
said.  “He seems to like you an awful lot, though.  Aren’t you afraid his wife
will be jealous of you and send you away?”

     “Nay,” she replied simply, looking out to
the lake.  “I am not afraid of her.”

     Charles let it go, turning his attention to
the lake, too.  “I think I shall go in, too.  Can’t let them have all the fun.”

     Remington was left alone under the oak
tree.  With a sigh of contentment, she settled back against the trunk and
watched the faint breeze trickle through the leaves.  Sunlight danced on the
woolen blanket and she found her thoughts turning toward Gaston again.  It
seemed that all she ever did now was think of him.

     Somewhere in the midst of her daydreaming
she dozed off.  Drifting in and out, she heard screams of delight and Rory’s
loud voice. In her dreams she saw Gaston, his incredible sensual face, the
curtain of hair that fell down over his eyes.  She dreamt something about the
fair, although she couldn’t quite grasp the thought. Peace was finally hers on
this lazy, muggy day.

     Somebody was shaking her gently, calling
her name.  She rolled her eyes open to find Sir Roald looking back at her.

     “My lady, we must return now,” he said.  He
sounded tense.

     She blinked the sleep from her eyes and sat
up, glancing down to the lake.  Like waterfowl, her family was still romping
about and throwing water on each other.

     “Why, Sir Roald?  What’s the matter?” she
asked.

     His jaw was rigid as he glanced about
uneasily.  “If you do not mind, my lady, I will collect the baskets and we will
be gone.  If you would kindly retrieve your family from the water.”

     He was awfully tight and almost forceful. 
She rose unsteadily, wondering what had the man so spooked.  She glanced around
as he quickly gathered their things but saw nothing unusual.  Puzzled, she
began to walk to the lake to do as she had been asked.

     And then it struck her.  Sir Roald was the
only knight present.  There had been three.  What had happened to the other
two?  Uneasy, although she knew not why, she hastened to the water’s edge.

     Sir Roald had gathered everything into a
pile at his feet, although he had not picked anything up.  His hand rested on
the hilt of his broadsword as he scanned the trees.  Something was terribly
wrong, although he did not know just what.  His knights were missing, not
responding to his calls, and he was eager to return to the safety of Mt.
Holyoak.  Sir Gaston would have his head if anything happened to the lady.

     Remington was hustling her son out of the
lake when they all heard a high-pitched whine. It was brief, going from barely
audible to a loud scream within a mere second, and suddenly Sir Roald went
hurtling to the ground in a crash of mail and flesh.

     Everyone started violently; Skye and
Jasmine screamed loudly.  All eyes were riveted to Sir Roald, lying on the
ground with an arrow sticking out of his chest and Remington bolted into
action.

     “Run!” she yelled.  “Run for the fortress!”

     They tore off as if the devil himself had
just burst through the trees.  But the moment they started to run, charges
broke through the underbrush and hurtled themselves across the green grass, on
a direct course for the fleeing family.  Remington was terrified; she knew they
couldn’t outrun them.  But they could lose them in the bramble, if only to slow
them down.

     “The bushes.  Head for the bushes.” she
urged everyone, especially Dane.  She was panicked for her son’s safety.

     They were almost to the dense foliage when
the destriers were upon them.  Jasmine was grabbed first, followed by Skye. 
Remington tried to duck away from a large roan horse but she wasn’t swift
enough; a huge mailed hand had her by the dress and she was hooked.

     She twisted and thrashed as she was hoisted
up onto the saddle, punching and kicking with every bit of strength.  She lost
sight of Dane and Rory; she had not even seen where Charles had gone.  Mayhap
he was a prisoner, too.  She could hear Jasmine screaming and she increased her
efforts to free herself.

     “Remington!” A voice hissed in her ear. 
“Stop it.  Remington, do you hear me? 
Stop!”

     She recognized the voice but it did not
ease her terror.  For the moment, she stopped fighting and turned to the
helmeted knight. 

     “Who…who is it?” she gasped.

     “Derek.” the knight said.  “I came to
rescue you.”

     She was puzzled now as well as terrified. 
“Rescue me from
what
?”

     “From de Russe,” he insisted, trying to
help her sit straight on the destrier.  “Remington, I know you said all those
things at the fair because you had to.  I told my father what happened and he
ordered us to rescue you from Mt. Holyoak.  We have been waiting here for a
day, waiting for you to come to the lake.  I remember how much you loved the
lake.”

     Her mouth fell open. Her fear was rapidly
subsiding, replaced by a vague understanding and full-blown exasperation. 
“Nay, Derek, you misunderstand.  I did not say those things because I had to; I
said them because it was the truth.  Sir Gaston has been exceedingly generous
and kind to us.”

     Two knights exploded through the
undergrowth, reining their excited animals next to Derek.  “Rory and young Dane
made it to the castle, Derek.  We couldn’t risk being seen when they escaped
onto the open road.”

     “Calvin.” Remington said accusingly.

     “Do not fret, Remi,” Derek assured her
calmly.  “We shall get them.”

     “I do not want you to
get
them, I
want you to let me go.  Let us all go,” she insisted angrily.  “Derek, you are
crazy.  Gaston will kill you when he finds out what you have done.”

     “Do not worry,” he repeated to her, then
looking at his men. “The escapees will surely alert de Russe.  Come now, we
ride.”

     Remington opened her mouth to protest but
Derek took off with such speed she nearly fell off.  She clung to the
destrier’s saddle, terrified of what was to come.

     Knaresborough was nearly ten miles to the southwest. 
Derek’s father maintained a fair-sized fortress, certainly nothing the size of
Mt. Holyoak, and Remington knew instinctively that Gaston would obliterate it
in his quest to retrieve her.  Derek did not seem to want to listen to her,
convinced she was a prisoner of the Dark Knight.  He had to listen.

     “Derek.” she screamed.  “Stop, please.”

     He held on to her tightly, ignoring her
pleas.  She tried repeatedly to convince him to stop, but he did not answer. 
Instead, he urged his horse harder.

     They ran and ran.  Remington wasn’t even
sure how many men Derek had with him, but she could see that every man was
positive they were doing something chivalrous and good.  Rescuing damsels in
distress from a ruthless overlord.  If they would only listen to the truth!

     They cut south to the River Ure.  Once
across the wooden bridge that spanned the waters, there was nothing between
them and Knaresborough.  Remington saw this as her only opportunity to stall,
to talk sense into the man as he slowed his destrier to a halt. 

     “Derek, I feel ill,” she gasped, although
it was a lie.  “Can I please rest for a moment?  Please?”

     His helm looked at her a moment before she
saw it dip in approval.  Gently, he lowered her to the ground and she ran for
Jasmine.  Hysterical, her sister fell into her arms and the two clutched each
other tightly.  Skye was not to be left out, wriggling from her captor and
throwing herself against her sisters.  They were terrified.

     Remington turned angry eyes to Derek.  “I
told you we did not want to leave.  Why do you not listen?  What will it take
for you to believe me?”

     He flipped up his visor, his soft blue eyes
and blond lashes focused on her.  “Remington, he’s the enemy, for God’s sake. 
What sort of magic has he performed on you to make you loyal to him?”

     If he only knew!  “Derek, I demand you
return us to Mt. Holyoak.  Return us now and I promise Gaston will go easy on
you.”

     “Hmpf.  I think not,” he said firmly.  “You
are an ungrateful little chick. Come now, mount up.”

     Jasmine suddenly went into a screaming fit
of hysterics and collapsed on the ground.  Remington and Skye went down on
their knees beside her, trying to revive her.

     “See what you have done?” Remington accused
hotly. “Derek Botmore, you are a lout and an idiot!”

     Derek sighed and dismounted heavily.  This
rescue was not going at all well.  His former captives were most unappreciative
of his efforts.

     “Remington, come here,” he motioned with
his finger.

     Thinking mayhap he was willing to see
reason, Remington left her sister’s side.  “What is it?”

     “You do not understand, love,” he said
carefully.  “I am saving you.”

     “From what?” she demanded.  “I told you
that we are not in any danger.  Sir Gaston has been entirely accommodating. 
Derek, Mt. Holyoak is our home and we wish to return.”

     He looked at her a moment before shaking
his head in disbelief.  “You are ill, love.  You are not thinking clearly.”

     “Do not turn this around on me,” she said
angrily.  “I know exactly what I am saying.  ‘Tis you who are not thinking clearly. 
I never exactly asked for your help.”

     He put his hands on his hips.  “Listen to
me, Remi.  With Guy locked away, you do not have to stay at Mt. Holyoak any
longer,” his hands grasped her arms suddenly, firmly.  “Come to Knaresborough
with me, love.  I shall take good care of you.”

     She saw his ploy, his open invitation and
she was infuriated.  Roughly, she yanked away from him.  “I do not want you. 
Take me home.  Now.”

     His face hardened.  “Do not make me force
you, Remington.  I am doing you a favor.  What is the matter with you?”

     She took a step back from him, shaking with
anger.  “Take me home or I shall walk every step of the way.  I mean it,
Derek!”

     He did not answer and she turned away from
him, moving back to her crumpled sister. 

     “I must do what I feel is best for you,
Remington.” he said loudly.  “You must trust me.”

     “You are not my husband,” she snapped
back.  “You have no say in my life or the lives of my family members.”

     He slapped his thigh, maddened. “You are
unreasonable!”

     “And you are out of line, sir.” she said
hotly.

     “Remi, what’s going on?” Skye’s voice was
shaking.

     Remington turned back to Jasmine.  “He
thinks he is saving us from Gaston.”

     “Saving us?” Skye repeated.  “From what?”

     Remington fixed her sister with a pointed
look.  “Exactly my question, sweetheart.”

     Jasmine suddenly moaned and twitched,
clutching at her stomach.  “Oh, God.  I am going to be sick.”

     She continued to cry and carry on, but that
was the extent of it.  Remington tried to comfort her, bending low so she would
be heard over the moaning.  “Jasmine, what’s the matter?  Where do you hurt?”

     Jasmine moaned and groaned and one eye
opened, peering at her sister.  “Nowhere,” she whispered, then moaned again. 
“I am stalling for time.”

     Remington almost collapsed with relief atop
her sister, but refrained from showing her alleviation.  Quickly, her mind set
in motion to add to Jasmine’s stalling tactic.  They must give Gaston time to
catch up to them.

     “See what you have done!” she whirled to
Derek furiously.  “You have aggravated her stomach ailment.  If we travel
anymore she will become violently ill.”

     Derek hissed a curse and slapped at his
thigh; this was not going at all well.  He marched up on the women, gazing
critically on Jasmine.

     “Well, what’s wrong with her?” he demanded.

     “I just told you, it’s her stomach.”
Remington snapped.  “We must rest here.”

     They couldn’t afford to stay there any
longer.  Already he was granting the pursuing Dark Knight ample time to catch
up to them.  He began to wonder about the wisdom of this caper; never had he
met such stubborn victims.  But he had no desire to kill one of his rescues, if
in fact she was ill as her sister made her out to be.