The Dark One: Dark Knight (81 page)

***

De Tormo remembered well
his meeting with Guy Stoneley before he went to Mt. Holyoak. The man had made
him incredibly uncomfortable, but it was nothing he could explain in words. It
was merely a feeling. When the tower guard opened the heavy oaken door and de
Tormo's gaze fell on the sight of Guy Stoneley again, he suddenly knew why the
man made him uncomfortable.

The man was pure evil.

     Sir Guy Stoneley was standing at the
opposite side of the small chamber, clad in leather trousers and boots. Naked
from the waist up, he was an exquisite example of a well-formed man. He was
average in size, in his mid-thirties, and he took great pride in keeping
himself in top physical form, even in prison.

     De Tormo watched the muscles on his back
flex as he moved in the faint sunlight; he swore he could see every muscle in
the man's back. Not large or bulky, but merely defined.

     As he approached, he found himself watching
the man's back so that when Guy finally turned around, the priest was almost
startled. Those eyes stared back at him again, and de Tormo felt the evil like
a tangible wave.

     Positive all of those stories he had heard
about the man had affected his judgment, de Tormo chased away the disturbing
thoughts and inclined his head as a greeting.

     “Father,” Guy greeted, turning to face him
fully. “How good to see you again. Do you bring my wife?”

     De Tormo studied the face; chiseled to a
fault, sharp of angle, considerably handsome. Blond hair that was perfectly
groomed and the eyes; like blue ice. They were of such a pale blue that they
were almost white.

     “I see that you are well, my lord,” de
Tormo answered steadily. “How have they been treating you?”

     Guy shrugged, pacing toward de Tormo as if
he were stalking prey. “As well as can be expected. Where is my wife?”

     De Tormo felt himself falter just a bit;
why did this man intimidate him so? De Russe did not intimidate him as badly as
this man did, and Stoneley wasn’t near Gaston’s size nor strength.

     He made up his mind in that brief second
that he must come to the point in this visit; the more stalling employed, the
harder it would be to deliver the message. Clearing his throat, he indicated
the table.

“May we sit, my lord?
There is a great deal to discuss.”

     Guy hesitated a brief second before
complying. His slim, developed body seated itself comfortably across the small
oak table from the priest, the piercing eyes intent. “Remington did not come,
did she?”

     “She is in London, “de Tormo's palms began
to sweat. He attributed it to the heat. “But there have been certain
developments that we must discuss, my lord, before you are permitted to see
her.”

     “What developments?”

     Dear God, where to begin? The speech he had
rehearsed on his way to the cell was suddenly forgotten and he struggled to
form words at first. “Your wife will be brought to you later this afternoon,
but you must be made aware of the circumstances. Firstly, she will not be
joining you in captivity. She does not want to.”

     A muscle twitched on Guy's face. “I see. I
was led to believe that she would not be given any choice in the matter.”

     “Normally, no, but these circumstances are
abnormal to say the least. She will be visiting you briefly, and then placed in
the wardship of the church,” de Tormo made sure he met the ice-blue eyes. “It
would seem, my lord, that Lady Remington will be seeking an annulment to your
marriage. She cites several reasons, among them being cruelty. She is seeking
an end to your marriage and she has the support of the crown.”

     Stoneley kept his cool. The only outward
sign of his internal explosion was a faintly ticking cheek, but it was several
moments before Re could speak. “Henry is supporting her? How chivalrous. But
the church will not allow an annulment, will they, de Tormo?”

     The priest felt a chill skate down his spine
at the tone. It was deadly, more a statement than a question. “It is possible.
My lord, your wife wants an annulment so that she may marry another man.”

     Guy shot out of his chair and spun away
from the priest, trying to control himself before he tore the priest's arms
from their sockets. He began to shake, his mind working wildly. Remington
wanted an annulment... she had crown support…she wanted to marry someone else.
“Who is it that she would marry?”

     De Tormo swallowed hard, his voice suddenly
leaving him. “Gaston de Russe.”

     Guy froze. Then, slowly, he turned to face
the priest. “The Dark Knight? The man who betrayed our king, who overtook my
keep?” he took a disbelieving step toward de Tormo, his face glazed with
astonishment. “She would marry the Dark One?”

     De Tormo could only nod. Guy's eyes were
burning holes into him and he was more uncomfortable than ever. He kept waiting
for a fist to catch him in the jaw.

     “A reward,” Stoneley hissed. “A reward for
his services. My keep, my wife. Henry would lock me up and throw away the key
while de Russe takes over my life.”

     “Nay, my lord, ‘tis not like that,” de
Tormo said quickly. “Lady Remington and Sir Gaston have fallen in love with one
another and they wish to be married.”

     “Love!” Guy snapped, slapping his hand on
the table.  “Remington does not know the first thing about love! She is a
naive, disobedient bitch and only I know how to deal with her.” he was suddenly
around the table, grabbing hold of de Tormo's robes. “I will not allow this,
priest. I will never agree to an annulment, and I will write the goddamn pope
if I have to, to keep my wife! She is mine and will remain so!”

     De Tormo was shaken but he held his ground.
“You do not even want her.”

     “She's mine.” Stoneley repeated, his voice
hissing and his face twitching. “By the law of the land and the law of the
church, she is my goddamn wife and I shall keep her until I die.”

     De Tormo wrenched himself free of the grasp
and stumbled from the chair, his eyes wide at the madman. “De Russe will have
her no matter what you say. If you wish to preserve your life, then I advise
you to agree to whatever he suggests.”

     Stoneley was preparing to physically
assault the priest again but halted himself unsteadily. Instead, his eyes took
on a strange, nervous light, a look of madness that ran through de Tormo like
an icy wind.

     “I love my wife terribly, priest. Surely
the church will not allow an annulment on that basis. Surely they will protect
the sanctity of a marriage, which the usurper king threatens to destroy. Surely
they will not allow the king to punish his prisoner in this manner, by taking
away his own wife and giving him to another as the spoils of war.”

     De Tormo did not realize he was quivering
with emotion and fright. Stoneley was unbalanced, and incredibly clever. “I
cannot say what the church will do, my lord. I merely came here today as a
messenger, not a judge and jury.”

     Stoneley’s sculpted body was glistening
with sweat. He stood straight, a flash of sanity returning to his eyes. “I
realize that. But I will need your help in this, de Tormo. I will need advice
to....”

     De Tormo shook his head, backing away to
the door. “I cannot give it in good conscience. From what I have seen, Lady
Remington would be much better off with de Russe. You, my lord, are a lunatic.”

     Fortunately for de Tormo that he was near
the door. Guy flew over the table with such speed and grace that the priest had
no time to react at all before he was being slammed into the wall.

     “I shall not let her go,” Guy seethed
quietly. “She is my wife, and I shall not let her go.”

     The door jerked open and there were
suddenly soldiers pulling Guy off de Tormo. The priest scrambled through the
door, watching Stoneley shirk his accosters.

     He had to find Gaston.

***

     De Tormo was pale by the time he reached
Gaston’s rooms. Gaston was concerned.

     “What happened?” he demanded.

     De Tormo reached a shaky hand for the wine
decanter. Gaston saw the man’s hands and poured the drink himself.

“He's mad,” the priest
finally said.

     Gaston tried to remain calm. He folded his
arms slowly and waited until de Tormo had imbibed several fortifying gulps.
“That, priest, has already been established. I take it that he did not receive
the news well.”

     De Tormo snorted and sank into the nearest
chair. “Hardly. He believes that Henry is behind this annulment, planning to
reward you with Remington and Mt. Holyoak as the spoils of war. He cannot
comprehend that love has anything to do with this.”

     Gaston took a slow, deep breath, forming
his thoughts. “'Tis probably what it seems to him.”

     De Tormo looked at him pointedly. “He shall
not cooperate with you in the least, Gaston. He does not want to let Remington
go.”

     Gaston knew that. Now that his suspicions
were confirmed, he could better formulate a plan of action. “Then I will go and
see him. Mayhap he will listen to... reason.”

     The priest waved him away. “You'd better
not. Knowing you, Stoneley will not live to see the sun set and you would be
charged with his murder. The church would never grant you an annulment in that
case.”

     “I shall remain completely in control,”
Gaston insisted, but even he did not believe it. To actually face the man who
had caused Remington so much pain would drive him over the brink.

     De Tormo shook his head again. “Do not see
him alone. Take de Vere with you, if for no other reason, as a witness.
Stoneley is clever enough that he would beat himself senseless after your visit
and then say that you did it,” he lowered his gaze. “He...he unsettles me,
Gaston. He is not only utterly evil; he is as smart as the devil, too. I
received the impression that he would do anything in his power to keep this
annulment from going through.”

     Gaston's gaze was hard. “'Twill not be
enough. I will triumph in the end, no matter what he says or does.”

     De Tormo stared at him a moment longer, the
wine settling his nerves. “I concur with your requests that Remington stay away
from him, although the point is mute now. He spoke of her most unfavorably and,
coming to know the lady as I have, even I was offended,” he sat back in the
chair, wearily. “If my meeting with him is any indication, then you must
maintain iron control when you supervise his meeting with her. I have a feeling
he will try and provoke you, anything to use against you.”

     Gaston wasn't looking at the priest. Be
seemed to be staring at the floor, his boots, his leather vest. He slowly
fumbled with the fold of his vest before removing a long, narrow dagger. It was
a wicked looking thing. De Tormo watched with curiosity as he fingered it
smoothly, all the while seeming thinking on other things.

     Suddenly, the dagger went sailing. In a
fine, straight line as true as time, it landed with deadly accuracy into a
large wall tapestry. De Tormo’s head snapped with surprise, overwhelmed with
the speed and force in which the blade was tossed. It took him a moment to see
that the dagger had pierced the figure of a man, pinning the tapestry to the
wall.

     Upon closer scrutiny, the razor-sharp point
of the dagger penetrated the head of the man, dead center, in the eye.

     With a slow sigh, de Tormo faced Gaston
again. “Well done. Take your aggressions out on the furnishings, but not on
Stoneley. Not yet, anyway. 'Tis far too early in the game to create more
problems than you already have.”

     Gaston did not answer him for, in truth, he
did not trust himself to speak. Anger and hatred toward Stoneley was growing by
the minute.

     “I promised Henry I would collect
Remington,” he murmured, moving for the door but not bothering to retrieve his
blade. “We are supping with he and Elizabeth this eve, alone. Mayhap you can
use the time to recover from your meeting with Stoneley.”

     De Tormo lifted an ironic eyebrow. “I fear
I might have to go to Westminster and have myself exorcised. I feel as if I
have tangled with the devil.”

     Gaston paused abruptly at the door. “You
are wrong on that account. By tonight, Guy Stoneley will have met the devil
face to face. They do not call me the Dark One for frivolous reasons.”

CHAPTER TWENTY THREE

Gaston was determined to
see Stoneley. He was nearly blinded with rage with the results of de Tormo's
meeting with the man and he fought a losing battle to control himself.

     He crossed the compound of the Tower,
passing by the White Tower where Stoneley was held and fighting the urge to
race to the third floor, tear the door from its hinges, and then proceed to gut
Guy Stoneley with his bare hands. He almost veered for the entrance to the
Tower, but he forced himself away.