Marek (The Knights of Stonebridge Book 1) (4 page)

Taking her by the hand, Marek led her to her own bed and tucked her in. Before he had finished telling her about Moses being rescued by the Pharaoh’s daughter, she was asleep.

He lay awake well past the witching hour, certain that his wife would try to sneak out, escape to the woods to rendezvous with her demons. But at last he could stay awake no longer and fell asleep remembering Bria’s claim that she looked like an angel.

Indeed – an angel of darkness.

***

Near dawn, he was startled awake by a woman’s screams and his wife beating her fists against his back. He reached for his sword as she snatched Bria from his arms. He often woke to find the child had climbed into his bed during the night. But no one had ever tried to remove her. By the time he got his wits about him, Katherine sat on the floor, once again wrapped in his cloak and cradling Bria protectively, rocking back and forth and sobbing into her fine, blonde hair. Remarkably, Bria comforted the older woman, stroking her hair with one hand and patting her on the back with the other.

“Shh, ‘twill be all right. Hush now.”

At length, Katherine seemed to relax and stopped crying. She sat back and studied the little girl in her lap. She brushed Bria’s hair back from her face.

“Did he hurt you?”

Bria smiled at her and shook her head. “He will never hurt me.”

Taking his daughter’s hand, Marek removed Bria from Katherine’s lap. Her behavior was most strange. Both of them. “What is the meaning of this?” he asked, not sure to whom he spoke.

His wife looked at him with the fury he had come to expect. “If you lay one hand on her, I’ll kill you myself.”

CHAPTER THREE

Before Marek could respond, there was a ruckus downstairs. He nudged Bria towards her room and grabbed his sword.

“Stay in your chamber until I fetch you.”

The little girl hurried away without argument. Marek waited until she disappeared through the door. As Kitty watched, she could not help but suck in an appreciative and calming breath - the hem of his light-colored tunic barely covered his buttocks. His legs were fine and thick-muscled with a light sprinkling of dark hair.

He turned to Kitty. She snapped her lusty gaze from his naked legs, trying to pretend she was not practically drooling over him.

Marek frowned at her. “Wait here,” he said, his deep voice a little sleep-rough and thoroughly sexy. He still held his sword. Now he sheathed it, donned what appeared to be a housecoat, then buckled the sword around his waist.

Not often one to do as she was told, Kitty ignored his command and followed him through the door. She nearly trod on his heels as they descended the staircase. Thane met them at the landing.

Even from her position on the higher step behind him, she could not see over Marek’s shoulder. She stood on her tiptoes, craning her neck to see inside the big room she remembered from yesterday.

“The priest is here with a group from the village. They have come for
her
.” He made a curt nod in Kitty’s direction.

Dread settled in the pit of her empty stomach.

“How did they get in?”

“Bryn tried to stop them, but the guards could not get the gate up before they were inside the keep.”

“Blast it,” Marek swore. “We have to get that portcullis repaired.”

“Everyone awaits you in the hall.” Thane stepped back as Marek pushed past him, Kitty following close behind.

“Father Jacob. ‘Tis early yet for your ministry and not even the Sabbath.”

“I have not come to minister, my lord, but to rid these lands of Satan’s whore.”

Murmurs of agreement rumbled through the small crowd gathered in the great hall. Thane moved closer to Marek, creating a protective barrier between her and the agitated mob.

Kitty counted nearly twenty men. A more bedraggled lot, she’d yet to encounter. These men were dressed in rags and thin to the point of emaciation. Many looked as if they hadn’t eaten in weeks. The gray pallor of their skin was a sharp contrast to the vivid hatred she recognized in their eyes. Many of them directed that malevolent gaze towards her, but most stared at Marek as if to accuse
him
of consorting with the devil.

She’d figured out by now that Marek’s wife had died and was about to be cremated when she suddenly ‘came back to life’. Somehow Kitty had actually traveled back in time and taken the place of a woman who apparently looked just like her. Now these people, Marek included, believed she was his wife,
raised from the dead
.

She shivered as abject terror passed through her. She had so hoped that she would wake this morning to find it had all been a really bizarre nightmare. But to her frustration, she found herself still in the same nightmare.

Impossible.

Oh yeah. And time-travel is so much more plausible.

Marek gave Thane a discreet signal, and he slipped out. Feeling his absence, Kitty stepped closer to Marek. Her anxiety grew as she stood behind the only man who seemed inclined to protect her. Then again, given the animosity he’d demonstrated so far, he just might turn her over to these people.

“As was discussed yester morn, Father, we surely made a grievous mistake in declaring my wife deceased. As you can see, she is not.”

“Proof that she lies with the devil.”

Kitty was struck again at his resemblance to Jake. Not just his looks, but his voice, his mannerisms, the set of his jaw when he was angry.

A sudden thought hit her. Was that why she’d returned to this place? Could she somehow save Vanesa by confronting this priest, in this time? Had Jake been some kind of reincarnation of this man?

The logical part of her brain refused to believe any of this.

“The only proof is that through your lack of a thorough examination, my wife was nearly burned alive.”

Gratitude flowed through her. Since Jake’s death, she’d been so alone. Her friends had become more and more scarce. Jake’s family had completely disowned her. Her mother, her only relative, had passed away while Kitty was still in high school.

Kitty reached for the medallion, panic rising within her. She had not thought of it before now, but suddenly felt the need to hold it in her palm, to feel that connection to the world she knew. To her despair, it was gone.

She blinked back tears at the loss. She had often fingered the worn impressions on its jagged surface, drawing comfort. She had been in high school when her mother died, leaving her with a legacy of foster homes and the worthless piece of costume jewelry, only a fragment really, Kitty always remembered her wearing. It reminded Kitty of one of those necklaces best friends gave each other, where each friend wore one side of the heart. She had often wondered what had become of the other side. She had asked many questions of her mother, questions about the medallion’s origins, but she had had no answers. Kitty thought sadly of her mother, missing her.

She stepped a little closer to Marek, who, although he hated her, refused to allow any harm to come to her. Her sense of gratitude grew. She wanted to remember this feeling later when all this…whatever
this
was…was over.

“And burn she will. She has already escaped the fires of hell, but on this day she will be
tied
to a stake and burned for the witch she is," Father Jacob said.

As one the group of men moved towards them, but halted with uncertainty at a commotion from the doorway.

Marek’s glare remained fixed on the priest, but Kitty turned quickly to find Thane had returned with Bryn and the other men who’d ridden with them from the church the day before. They were dressed fit for war. Each of them wore a quilted jacket covered with a shirt of mail. The tiny metal rings gleamed despite the lack of light in the room. Even her fear could not diminish the amazement she felt as she stared at this group of knights. They were magnificent, even Bryn, the youngest. He couldn’t be more than fifteen, but a finer specimen of man she had never seen.

Except for her
new
husband.

She turned back to Marek, pressing against his back as he addressed the priest. Amazingly, her nipples hardened against the wide expanse of muscle. He tensed. Could he feel her arousal?

He cleared his throat. “Are you prepared to do battle against her soul, Father? Are you, Amos? Daniel? Are any of you? My brothers and I will not let you take her.

Brothers? Not his men, but his
brothers
. She counted them again. Five. Including Marek - six. God help the woman who had six boys.

The men behind the priest seemed to deflate as a whole. The determination they’d expressed turned to attitudes of defeat. But the looks of hostility directed at Marek and his family remained. One of them whispered to the priest. Father Jacob’s face grew red with fury, but he surely recognized the futility of doing battle with these men. The village men cautiously crept around the knights and made a hasty exit.

Father Jacob had no choice but to follow. He stopped at the door and turned back. He sneered at Marek. “You stand guard before the devil’s concubine. She will bring about the destruction of you and your family. We
will
take back our freedom and rid the earth of your father’s name.”

He spat on the floor at Marek’s feet. Kitty fully expected Marek to break the other man in half. But he did nothing.

From the stairwell, they heard the priest’s angry voice. “Out of my way, boy!”

William scampered into the room, struggling to catch his breath. “My lord,” he gasped. “Someone has taken the cow. The one that gives milk.”

Marek scrubbed one hand over his face, growling in frustration. “Give me leave to dress,” he said as his brothers prepared to pursue the thief. “We need look no further than the village.”

The brothers stepped aside as Marek passed. Kitty followed his hasty ascent, unsure what she should do next.

“Bria,” Marek barked as he entered the family’s sleeping quarters.

She must have been waiting for him. She ran out and jumped into his open arms. “All is well, Papa?”

He pressed his lips to her tiny head before setting her back down. “Yes. I must leave for a while. Go down and have Sarah get you something to eat. You,” he said, addressing Kitty, “in the name of the Almighty, put some clothes on.”

Kitty, still wearing nothing but the cloak he’d given her the day before, blushed. It was Bria who stepped to her defense.

“I shall help you dress.” She took Kitty’s hand. “We can eat anon.” Bria led Kitty away, leaving her father to gape after them.

When they reached the lady’s chamber, Bria looked around, eyes wide. Kitty followed her gaze. The first thing one noticed was the bed. It was the most comfortable bed Kitty had ever slept in. Easily as large as
his
. Maybe even bigger. It was like a box on four legs, with a great big pillow stuffed inside. The legs rose past the mattress at least eight feet. Plain wool draped the canopy. Cream. Every piece of material on the bed was cream or a shade of cream. So inviting.

Bria crossed to an armoire that stood against one wall. The little girl pulled both doors open, climbed inside and began rummaging around.

Kitty peered inside. “What are you looking for?” she asked.

“I have only been in this room once before now, and then ‘twas dark,” she said.

You’ve only been in your mother’s room one time?
Kitty did not ask the question out loud but instead helped her dig through the armoire.

Bria pulled down a royal blue garment and jumped to the floor. “This is my favorite of your gowns.
Her
gowns,” she corrected. “Can you reach that smock?” Bria pointed up into the cabinet.

Kitty reached inside and pulled down what appeared to be a thick length of rope. When she untied the lacings keeping it twisted, it sprang open into a gown, very like a nightgown, cream-colored.

“The laundress does that while it’s still wet. Mother did not like it. She claimed the crinkled smock beneath her gown made her look fat.” The little girl stood silently for a moment, then laid the blue gown on the bed before taking the smock from Kitty. “This goes on first. Then the kirtle over it.” Bria helped Kitty get dressed then stepped back to admire her. “Thou are more beautiful than she was. And the gown fits you better." She smiled. "I like your hair down, as well.”

Kitty combed her fingers through her wave of auburn hair. She’d always kept it just below her shoulders, never having the time or inclination to deal with something that had to be styled. She pinched the stiff ends where they’d been singed by the fire.

Bria took her hand. “Thou art hungry?” Without waiting for an answer, she led Kitty from the room.

As they climbed downstairs, they passed the landing at the entrance to the great hall and continued down to the door through which she’d entered the castle yesterday. Kitty was surprised when they kept going, down, down, down. Her head was spinning and already she dreaded climbing back up.

This floor was divided into several alcoves, some larger than others, that stored various food stuffs. They passed wine barrels and bulging burlap sacks stacked floor to ceiling until they came to a door on the other side of the room. Pushing it open, Bria led her out into the morning sun. Despite the brightness, the air was crisp and still damp from the previous day’s rain.

Scampering across the bailey, they ducked into a wooden building next to the gatehouse through which she’d arrived the day before. The smell of freshly baked bread assaulted her. Her empty stomach clenched and growled.

The kitchen was more a lean-to, albeit a big one, the back wall being that of the tall, wood pikes surrounding the castle. It took only moments for her eyes to adjust to the darkness inside. Yet another enormous fireplace took up one end of the room. Several women stopped whatever they had been doing to gawk at her.

“Sarah,” Bria said, startling the women from their daze. “Can we get food?”

Sarah, a short, pixie-like woman who looked to be in her early twenties, instantly shooed the other women back to work with an air of authority. She curtsied briefly, brushing away wisps of blonde hair that had escaped from her bun and addressing Kitty. “Mistress.” Ducking her head she bustled around the room.

Bria led Kitty to a stool at the end of a large table set in the center of the room. Two of the women removed the carcass of some poor animal and quickly wiped the corner clean. Sarah set a board before them then made a hasty retreat.

The board served as a platter for a small loaf of bread and a hunk of white cheese. She returned seconds later and set two wooden goblets before them.