Connie Mason (23 page)

A knight holds pain in contempt
.

Drake was seized by terror such as he had never known before. Raven looked so small and utterly vulnerable, and his fear for her escalated. “What is Raven doing here?”

“She is here at my command,” Waldo said. “But she demands to see you before entering the keep. She did not trust me to keep you alive. Foolish girl. She fancies herself your savior.”

He slanted Drake an assessing look. “You look better than I expected.” His words held a wealth of contempt and the barest hint of awe. “Some believe you are indestructible, but every man has his breaking point. I do not understand. You look not like a man who should be half-dead from lack of water and food.”

“Mayhap I am indestructible,” Drake replied.

“No man is invincible,” Waldo said with a sneer. He nodded toward one of the guards. “Bring him forward so his whore can see him.”

Drake was dragged forcibly to the crenel, where he could be seen from below. Raven shaded her eyes against the sun and stared up at him. Throwing caution to the wind, he cupped his mouth and called out, “Flee, Raven! Waldo means you harm. Keep yourself safe for my sake.”

“Bastard!” Waldo said in a hiss, pushing him aside. Drake fell to his knees but quickly recovered.

“Now that you have seen your lover,” Waldo called down to Raven, “you may enter the keep. No harm will come to you.”

Duff appeared on the parapet beside Waldo, frowning when he saw Raven standing below. “ ’Tis Raven.”

Drake felt hope stir within him when Duff appeared. Though Duff had never shown much gumption, he was, after all, Raven’s brother and should protect her. “Waldo means your sister harm,” Drake warned. “Do not let him hurt her.”

“Stay out of this, Duff,” Waldo advised. “Your sister is my wife; let me handle her however I see fit.”

“You promised you would not harm Raven,” Duff said, surprising Drake. Duff had never been vocal about anything, preferring instead to follow Waldo’s lead. Drake had always thought Duff a spiritless fellow.

“I have no intention of hurting Raven,” Waldo lied smoothly. “She will be punished, of course. She made a cuckold of me. ’Tis my right to demand redress. But let me assure you she will live to bear my heir.”

Duff looked dubious but offered no further argument. Drake was quick to pursue his small victory. “I would watch Waldo were I you, Duff. Raven is your only sister. As I recall, your other sister died under mysterious circumstances while married to Waldo. Has he explained to your satisfaction how a healthy woman could sicken and die so quickly?”

Duff’s thoughtful expression cheered Drake. He prayed the seed of doubt he had planted would take root, and that it would save Raven from serious harm.

“Weakness does not become a knight,” Waldo chided Duff. “Show yourself to Raven. Convince her to enter the keep.”

Duff walked to the crenel and stared down at Raven. “Sister!” he called loudly. “I promise you will be safe. You must return to your husband. In time he will forgive you.”

“Very good,” Waldo said, nodding approval.

Drake dragged himself to the crenel and peered down at Raven. “Do not believe them, Raven. Flee!”

Waldo forcibly removed Drake and flung him away, where
he was immediately seized by the guards and prevented from interfering.

The moment Raven saw Drake, she knew he had suffered excessively on her account. Though she could not see every bruise and injury from so great a distance, she knew from the sound of his voice and the way he held himself that he had been tortured. It took tremendous strength to remain calm, to keep herself from rushing into the keep and begging for his life. Despite Drake’s warning, she was not going to flee.

She gained scant comfort when Duff promised that she would not be harmed, for Duff was not now nor had he ever been her champion. Aware of Waldo’s sly nature, she had a request of her own to make.

“Bring Drake down to the portcullis. I refuse to enter until I speak to him.”

“Bitch,” Waldo muttered beneath his breath. “Very well,” he shouted. “Your lover will greet you at the portcullis.”

Raven did not realize she was holding her breath until she felt herself grow dizzy from lack of air. She released it in a great whoosh and sucked in another breath as she guided her mount over the drawbridge. She passed the barbican and drew rein just short of the portcullis, her heart pounding as she waited for Drake to appear.

She gasped aloud when she saw him supported between two guards. She wanted to cry. He looked terrible. Disregarding her own safety, she crossed the moat and rode through the portcullis. She brought her palfrey to a skidding halt, slid from the saddle, and rushed to Drake’s side.

“What have you done to him?” she cried, sending Waldo a scathing look.

“You should not have come,” Drake said in a croak.

Tears sprang to Raven’s eyes. Drake was in worse shape than she had imagined. His face was battered, his eyes and
mouth dreadfully swollen. His hose was in shreds and his gambeson torn beyond repair. She wanted to take him in her arms but did not dare.

“You have seen your Black Knight, or what is left of him,” Waldo taunted. “Are you ready to become my wife now?”

Raven heard Drake groan and felt his pain as if it were her own, but she kept herself focused on her purpose.

“Release Drake first,” she demanded.

“Not yet,” Waldo said with a snarl. “His release depends upon your willingness to submit to my will. I will have an heir from you, Raven.”

“Nay!” Drake cried. “Make no promises. Waldo cannot be trusted.”

Drake’s impassioned plea nearly destroyed Raven’s resolve, but she squared her narrow shoulders and followed her heart. “I will give you an heir, Waldo, after you set Drake free. You have no right to hold him prisoner. Until you release him, I vow no child of yours will grow in my belly. If you think I jest,
husband
, you should know that women have ways of preventing conception.”

Raven had a vague idea of some of the things women could do to prevent conception but had no real knowledge of them. She prayed her bluff would convince Waldo of her determination to see Drake set free.

“Drake will remain my prisoner until you conceive my child,” Waldo proclaimed. “Then, if I am in a good mood, mayhap I will release him.”

Aware that Waldo was rarely in a good mood, Raven tried another tactic. “Drake is the king’s champion. Edward will not be pleased with your treatment of Drake. ’Tis the king’s right to mete out punishment if punishment is due.”

“I fear Raven is right in that,” Duff contended. “The Black Knight is the king’s champion. The charges against Drake should be presented to Edward so he can resolve them however he sees fit.”

Waldo’s face swelled with rage. “Are you turning against me, Duff?”

“Nay, I but speak the truth.”

“The truth is that Drake of Windhurst deflowered my bride and abducted her on my wedding night.”

“Nay!” Raven denied. “I went willingly. Duff knew I was never keen on our marriage. I would have accompanied the devil to escape you. You killed my sister.”

Waldo raised his arm to backhand Raven. Duff grasped Waldo’s arm with surprising strength, stopping the blow before it fell.

“You said you would not harm Raven,” Duff reminded him. “Having to bear your child should be punishment enough for her. We both know she despises you. Injuring her will solve naught.”

No one was more stunned by Duff’s defense than Raven herself. It was not like Duff to defy Waldo. Cheered by Duff’s words, she decided it was time Waldo was reminded that there could be consequences from her association with Drake. His reaction might be brutal, and she prepared herself both mentally and physically for Waldo’s wrath.

“Mayhap I carry Drake’s child.”

Waldo
did
strike her then, his blow knocking her off her feet. She lay on the ground, staring up into his glowering features, wondering if he would kill her.

“Hit her again and you will suffer a slow death,” Drake promised as he struggled to free himself.

Waldo paid him little heed; his rage was centered on Raven now. “Bitch!” he roared. “Are you carrying my brother’s bastard?”

Raven’s held her head high, refusing to be crushed by the likes of Waldo. She shrugged. “Mayhap.”

“How long before you know?” Waldo’s face was so red Raven feared he would burst.

“I am not sure. Two weeks,” she said, stretching the truth. “Three at the most. ’Tis difficult to predict.”

“Guards!” Waldo bellowed. “Take my
wife
to the solar and lock her in.” Raven was hemmed in by two burly guards. “My dear
wife
will wait upon me in her chamber until I see solid proof that she is not breeding.”

He turned to Drake. “You had better pray, Sir Bastard, that your whore is not carrying your child. Meanwhile, you will enjoy Chirk’s dungeon until such time as Raven becomes my wife in more than name only. Knowing that your life is in my hands will make her more amenable to my attentions.”

He waved his hand and the guards started to drag Drake back to the dungeon. “Wait,” he cried, refusing to budge. “What will happen to Raven should she be carrying my child?”

Waldo gave him a nasty grin. “Then, dear
brother
, you and Raven will meet in hell.”

Enraged, Drake broke free and reached for Waldo, but the guards dragged him back. Waldo nodded to one of the guards, who promptly brought the hilt of his sword down upon Drake’s skull, rendering him unconscious. Raven screamed and had to be forcibly restrained as his limp body was hauled away.

Raven paced her chamber, fear for Drake a cancer eating at her soul. Her coming to Chirk had done nothing to help Drake. All she had accomplished was to place her own life in danger. She did not know for certain that she was carrying Drake’s child, but Granny had seemed to think a babe was already growing inside her.

She walked to the window embrasure and stared out across the heather-covered hills. Wales and safety lay just beyond the border, but it might as well be a hundred leagues away.
She sank down onto the wide ledge and pondered her meager options. First, if her courses did not arrive in a reasonable length of time, Drake would die, and so would she and her child. She could not, would not, allow that to happen. Drake’s child must be protected at whatever cost.

Raven heard the metallic scrape of a key and looked expectantly toward the door. A maidservant Raven did not recognize entered the chamber. She carried a trencher and a cup.

“I am Lark,” the girl said, staring at Raven with ill-concealed contempt. “I am to attend you.”

“Where is Thelma? She has served me in the past.”

Lark shrugged. “I know not. There is no maidservant named Thelma employed here.”

“What about Sir Melvin? He is my brother’s steward.”

“That I do know,” Lark said. “Sir Melvin retired and resides with his daughter in the village. Sir Edgar is the new steward. Are you hungry? I have brought you food.” She placed the trencher and cup on the table beside the hearth with so little care that some of the ale spilled out.

At least Waldo does not intend to starve me, Raven thought. Dimly she wondered why Thelma had been dismissed. It seemed odd that the servants she once knew so well were no longer here to offer help.

She watched Lark as she moved about the room, suddenly realizing that she had called Waldo by his given name, not Lord Waldo, or milord. It did not take Raven long to guess at the role the buxom Lark played in Waldo’s life. “You are new here, are you not?” Raven quizzed. The maid was comely as well as shapely, and showed a marked lack of respect.

“I belong to Waldo,” Lark said with a sniff. “He takes me wherever he goes.”

“You are his leman,” Raven said.

“Does that bother you? Waldo is a virile man, with a virile man’s needs. Since you are so reluctant to serve him in
bed, I have taken your place.” Her cold blue eyes gleamed with a mixture of malice and curiosity. “You are the Black Knight’s leman. ’Tis rumored that he is a magnificent lover.”

Raven turned away in disgust. “If my
husband
sent you to spy on me, or to ask impertinent questions, tell him I have naught to say. My thoughts are my own to savor.”

“Savor them, my lady,” Lark said disdainfully. “While you are locked away, and your lover suffers below in the dungeon, ’tis I who will sport with Waldo in bed.”

“You have my blessing,” Raven said with a careless wave of her hand. “I never wanted to be Waldo’s wife. Drake is twice the man Waldo will ever be. Leave me; I prefer my own company.”

Lark headed toward the door. “I will return to examine your clothing before you retire tonight. I am to inform Waldo when your courses arrive. Or when they do not,” she added meaningfully.

Still groggy from the blow to his head, Drake regained his senses after he had been returned to the dungeon. Despite his ferocious headache, his mind was beginning to clear. Raven was in Waldo’s custody and he wanted to curse, to scream, to pummel someone, anyone. He could not bear the thought of Raven submitting to Waldo and suffering his hands upon her, his body melding with hers.