The Dark One: Dark Knight (50 page)

     “God, you do not think she might have done
something to the boy?” Arik asked, horrified.

     “I do not know, which is why we must find
them both,” Gaston was already veering away from him, toward the stables, and
Arik went on his way.

     Charles walked beside Antonius, feeling as
important as any knight.  Additionally, he was fairly confident he knew his
young cousin well and had little doubt they would find him in the stables. Even
with the terrible things Gaston was saying about his wife, Dane was smart and
quick and knew how to avoid danger, thanks to his in-bred response to his
father.  If Mari-Elle was in search to kill him, Dane could hide and never be
found. That is, if he knew the danger existed at all.

     A bit of foreboding filled the young man as
they entered into the stable area.  What if he was wrong?

     “Where would he be?” Gaston turned his attention
to Charles.

     Snapped out of his depressing thoughts,
Charles pointed to the nearest hayloft.  “Up there, somewhere.  If he is here
at all.”

     Gaston hoisted himself up to the first
loft; he did not even use the ladder.  He merely gripped the edge of the
platform and pulled himself up to look.  Charles swallowed hard at the display
of pure strength; for as huge as Gaston was, to have pulled himself up without
any effort was testimony to the man's raw power.

     Antonius took a look at the second loft,
descending empty-handed.  Gaston then moved to a smaller loft and hoisted
himself up, peering at the contents.  He held himself in place for several long
moments before releasing his massive body to the ground.

     “Both he and Trenton are up there fast
asleep,” he said with obvious relief.  “Antonius, return to the castle and
bring them some blankets, and then stand guard.  Until we are able to locate
Mari-Elle, I do not want either boy unprotected.”

     “You do not think she would hurt her own
son?” Antonius asked with disbelief.

     Gaston shook his head.  “Until I meet up
with the woman and determine her mental state myself, I will take no chances,”
he waved Antonius on.  “Go now.  They are safe for the moment.”

     The knight rushed off and Gaston faced
Charles, “And you, young master, will return to your fortress of solitude, I
thank you for your assistance.”

     “Would you like me to stay here and watch
over them until your knight has returned?” Charles asked helpfully.

     Gaston almost denied him, but he could read
the eagerness in the boy's face.  He so wanted to be useful and important, as
they all did.  Gaston wasn't sure what sort of relationship Charles had had
with his elder cousin, but it was most likely not a good one.  Guy Stoneley
managed to belittle and intimidate everyone around him and he took pity on the
young man.

     “Very well, then, perch yourself on this
ladder and do not move until Antonius returns,” he ordered.

     As obedient as the most perfect knight,
Charles dutifully went to the ladder as Gaston's mind turned to Mari-Elle.  He
knew she was lurking about somewhere, but he would leave it to Arik and the
others to find her.  He himself would return to Remington now that he knew the
boys were safe and wait until his fugitive wife had been located.  He knew she
would be found and did not want to bother himself with the search.  Returning
to his injured love was far more important.

     Half way through the inner bailey he caught
a shadow out of the corner of his eye, over by some storage bushels that held
long-range arrows.  Instinctively tensing, he stopped and turned to the source
of movement, finding it difficult to make any assessment in the moonlight.

     Suddenly a body was flying out at him and
he recognized it to be Mari-Elle.

     “Save me, my lord!” she cried.

     He instantly viewed her hands, making sure
she was harboring no weapons.  “Halt where you are, madam.”

     She slowed unsteadily, disheveled and
shaken and completely unlike the wife he knew. “Gaston, you must save me from….
from that madwoman.”

     His jaw ground as he moved forward and
grabbed her severely.  It was all he could do to keep from ripping her arms
from the sockets.  “With me, madam.”

     “But Gaston.” she shrieked.  “Your Lady
Remington tried to kill me. Thank God I was able to turn the knife against her,
otherwise she would have surely gutted me.”

     He slapped his hand over her mouth so hard
that she let out a muffled cry.  “Not another word,” he growled.

     He took her to the small portcullis that
led to the vault of Mt. Holyoak.  She twisted and tried to talk, but he held
her firmly.  Nicolas and two other lesser knights, in their search for

Mari-Elle caught sight of the struggles and
raced to his side.

     “You found her!” Nicolas exclaimed.

     Gaston's face was as dark as his
reputation.  “'Twas her misfortune to find me.  Away with you now, I will deal
with my wife alone.”

     Nicolas bowed swiftly away, wondering if
indeed Gaston would kill her after what had happened.  Surely he would never
see Lady de Russe alive again.

     He drug her down into the bowels of the
vault, a vacant place at the moment, but equipped with a good deal of torturous
instruments and the like.  It was a hellish place that stank of blood and sweat
and urine and he led her directly into the very first cell.

     It was black as tar until he lit a stale
torch, propping on the wall sconce as the room came to light.  Mari-Elle, free
of his vise-like grip, cowered several feet away.

     “She attacked me, Gaston,” she pleaded
softly, seeing his face and knowing her death was imminent.  “I went to your
room, my lord, to seek your forgiveness for my gross display of manners at the
evening meal.   She met me at the door and attacked me with a dagger.  Gaston,
I was terrified for my life.  I managed to turn the knife on her and then I
just ran, ran as fast as I could.  Her sister must have heard the screaming and
ran to finish the job that was never completed, and I was terrorized as I found
myself fleeing from yet another assassin.  I ran and ran until....”

     She began weeping hysterically into her
hands and he watched impassively.

     “She would have never attacked you,” he
said quietly.  “I would suspect that it 'twas you who came to my room with the
intent to stab me and when Lady Remington answered the door, you went mad with
rage and attempted to kill her instead.”

     “Nay, Gaston.  'Tis not true.”  Mari-Elle
pleaded, sobbing and weeping like a fool.  “She raised the knife on me. I was
defending myself.”

     A shadow of a doubt crossed his mind.  He
knew Remington would have never maliciously stabbed Mari-Elle, but she might
have tried if she thought she was defending herself.  His doubt gave way to
great frustration, deeply annoyed at himself that he was thinking on postponing
his wife's execution until he could speak with Remington and find out what had
truly happened.

     Mari-Elle would pay, but whatever he did,
it would be with full understanding of what had occurred.

     “I do not believe you,” he said.

     “You must!” she cried, her anger surfacing
through her tears.  “I was defending myself from your jealous mistress.”

     He put his hands on his hips in a slow,
deliberate move.  “Surely you do not intend to cast the first stone.”

     It was confirmation of what she knew to be
true.  Fury ran neck in neck with her terror.  “No wonder you want an
annulment.  How could you shame your family that way, Gaston?  How can you
shame Trenton?”

     His jaw twitched menacingly.  “You, of all
people, have no right to accuse me of shame.  Where in the hell was this
misplaced pride when you were bedding every man who crossed your path?” he was
suddenly upon her, his huge body causing her to shrink away.  “You have no
goddamn right to accuse me of infidelity, Mari-Elle, you who serviced our king
like the whore that you are.  You, madam, have shamed our family beyond repair
and an annulment will add little more.  I'd say given the circumstances, the
church will gladly grant me what I ask for.”

     “Not when they hear my side of the story.”
she shot back.  “What was a poor wife to do when her husband was gone month
after month, fighting for the king and whoring to no end?  Of course I sought
comfort elsewhere.”

     “You were not looking for comfort,” he
snapped forcefully.  “You were looking for pets to entertain you, men you could
spend my money on, and as for whoring I should think you would know better than
anyone that I do not take lovers.  I have little time or desire.”

     “Then how do you explain that little chit
in your bed?” she raged.  “Do not tell me you two were occupied with mere
pillow talk to pass the hours.”

     He had to move away from her or he would
strangle her with his bare hands.  “What Lady Remington and I do is of no
concern to you,” he rumbled, twitching with anger.  “She is more of a woman
than you could, ever hope to be.  Now, madam, make yourself comfortable for
this will be your home for the rest of your miserable life.  I shall return
shortly.”

     She went pale, her thin face sweaty from
exertion.  She looked stunned and he had difficulty believing her shock was
real.  “You would kill me for defending myself?”

     He paused at the door.  “Nay.  I would kill
you for harming Lady Remington.  You will be a thorn in my side no longer.”

     Her mouth opened in panic.  “But what about
Trenton?  You would deprive my son of…”

     “You birthed the lad, Mari-Elle, and that
is all.  You were never his mother; you never loved him nor cared for him,” he
said with quiet bitterness.  “He shall hardly miss you.”

     She shrieked weakly and collapsed to her
knees.  Quitting the cell, he bolted the heavy door and locked it with the
giant lock that was hanging from the hook-and-eye.  He did not even know where
the key was to open the lock and he did not care.

***

     Remington was still asleep when he
returned.  Patrick informed him briefly that Rastus the surgeon had already
seen her, but little more.  Rushed, Gaston chased both Eudora and Patrick out
for the moment, his eyes riveted to her face as he knelt beside the bed.  She
had rolled onto her back somewhat, her angelic face reflecting the soft glow
from the hearth. He regretted deeply that he must wake her, but he must know
what happened in order to deal better with Mari-Elle.

     She did not respond to his gentle voice at
first, and he took to kissing her softly, hoping that she would respond to his
touch.  As he hoped, she stirred slightly and her eyes fluttered open.  The
first thing she did was try to raise her right arm to touch him and she cried
out from the stab of pain.

     He soothed her tenderly.  “It's all right,
angel, just lie still.  I am sorry to have awoken you, but I must speak with
you.”

     Her left hand covered her shoulder as if
she could massage the pain away.  Her breathing was shallow and rapid. 
“What... what's wrong?”

     “Nothing at all,” he said softly.  “But I
need to know what happened this eve with Mari-Elle. Can you remember very
much?”

     She blinked, her pupils dilated with pain. 
“She came into your room while I was asleep. I remember seeing her hovering
over me with a terrible look to her eye, and I saw the dagger before she
stabbed me.  She ran away and I think I tried to follow her,” her breathing was
faint; Rastus had given her a powerful sleeping potion that was trying to
reclaim her.  “I do not remember much after that.  I am sorry.”

     He kissed her cheek gently.  “No need,
angel.  Go back to sleep now.”  He had all he had come for.

     “Where are you going?” she asked, her voice
no more than a whisper.

     “Nowhere to concern yourself over,” he
said. “I shall return as quickly as I can.”

     “Have you found her? She hasn't hurt anyone
else, has she?” she moved a bit and winced.

     He put his huge hand against her cheek,
feeling that she did indeed have a bit of a fever.  “Nay, my sweet angel, she
has not.  Everything is fine,” he pulled back the coverlet over her naked
shoulder.   “Go back to sleep.”

     She sighed and closed her eyes, sleep
claiming her almost immediately.  He kissed her tenderly once more before
ushering Eudora back into the room, leaving Patrick standing in the hall as he
closed the door behind the older woman.

     “There is no longer any need for you to
stand guard in the room,” he told his cousin.  “You may return to your regular
duties.”

     “Did you find Mari-Elle?” Patrick asked.

     Gaston ran his fingers through his hair. 
“Aye.”

     “Where is she?” his cousin asked.

     “In the vault,” Gaston said ominously,
nodding his head in the direction of the door he had smashed earlier.  “Get
some men on that door come sunrise, but I do not want them disturbing Remi. 
She needs to sleep.”