The Beast of Renald (The Northern Knights) (25 page)

Darc burst out with laughter and rose to his feet to clasp Rourke on the shoulder. ‘And rightly so.’

Caroline knew he sought privacy with Rourke.  ‘I think I need to see to Kelbie now.’ He surprised her when he helped her to rise and lifted her hand to press it against his warm lips. Rourke forgotten for a moment, her skin burned hot at the gesture and calmed her taut nerves. She met his powerful gaze.

‘Thank you for the lovely feast.’ His deep voice was like a caress. Then he turned back to Rourke. ‘Come. Join me for a walk around the mill to the wine storerooms. There you can choose from our fine selection.’

Her hand still tingling, Caroline stood staring after the two giants, her mind reeling over what Darc’s comforting gesture meant.

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

Darc gave the order to his reluctant men to go ahead without him on their return from riding nigh to York to see Rourke on his way.

The things he had discussed with his friend during his short visit ran through Darc’s mind. He watched his men ride off and turned Gray toward the south end of the river.

Much weighed heavily on his mind. The village murders. His brother. Cedric’s murder- on that one, as he’d told Rourke, he had his suspicions. Adjusting to his wife and the feelings she had stirred in him. And the nightmares, they had come non-stop up till three days ago.

He knew he had to face what the dreams were telling him. For if he did not, Darc knew they would only continue to haunt him.

The evening breeze caught his hair, deafening his ears and dulled his surroundings as Gray sped on.

The dogs ran ahead. Rourke’s words came back to him. His brother had left his mark of evil upon all their lives.

Adelay.

Gray stopped right at the edge of their destination. Darc dismounted and patted his tired horse, speaking into its ear. Then he turned and looked at what stood before him.

Only the framework of the old manor remained along with a few wooden worm-eaten slats, tall grass and straw grew out of and in between the holes. A partial stone edifice of where the hearth once stood remained, the stone blackened from the cooking fires and cauldrons that had once hung from it.

This was the place where Raven had killed her.

And where she had killed his son. Darc walked over to the hearth. His gaze dropped to the depression in the dirt which once had been the opening to the buried dungeons below. Long since filled in and covered over by his orders.  Where his hell had begun…

Darc closed his eyes. The memory of that night long ago rushed back and slammed into him full force. He let it unfold, reliving it again. 

The evil witch had poisoned him and left him in that pitch black cell. He could see nothing in front of him. He had felt alongside the wall in search of something familiar. He’d found nothing but gained more bruises to add to his already battered and beaten naked body. He’d known immediately he was in some type of dungeon.  Growing angrier with each step, he cursed her. Cursed the traitorous beauty that she had painfully proven to him what she truly was.  Heaviness weighed down his heart over her betrayal.  Fool he’d been to have given her his love.  Aye, a fool that had ignored the warnings, the hairs rising on the back of his neck, the unexplainable absences. 

He stilled.  They were coming. 

All he’d seen the moment before he’d passed out was her lovely face grinning over him as she shook the vial in front of his eyes.  As hades pulled him down into his depths, he swore to return and come back to take her with him to burn in hell. 

His wife of Norman blood, Lady Adelay had not only handed him over on a platter into the hand of his most hated enemy, but she had taken their son from him. 

 He now heard their muffled curses echoing outside in the corridor over the unlit torches he’d blown out.  Although he could not see them clearly, he could make out that there were five of them. In his search he’d found nothing to use as a weapon. But he worried not, for he had regained enough strength to do what needed to be done. When the first torch flared back to life, he brought the butt of his elbow crashing down on the head of the man nearest him and with his bare foot, kicked the man in his throat.

The man flew across the small room, air blast from his lungs as his head split open when it hit the wall. The other man went too late for his sword, one wild swing and Darc ended his life quickly with the same sword. 

Chest heaving he turned at another sound and saw stars as something hit him hard in the side.  He fell to one knee and a fist of stone slammed into his left eye.  It swelled immediately.

He saw what looked like a giant in front of him. A blonde-haired ogre by the man’s enormous size.  All he could think was the man was ugly as sin.  Darc’s good eye fell upon the finely dressed nobleman behind the ogre and next to him stood Lady Adelay, his wife. 

“Hold!”  The nobleman came closer and removed one gauntlet to reveal his scarred hand.  “My, how the mighty have fallen. Take that sword from him.”  He ordered.  The ogre obeyed and delivered another punishing kick to Darc’s side. 

Darc heard and felt his bones crack as the pain set his teeth to chatter. He wheezed and tried to catch his breath.  He drew blood from his bottom lip in his attempt to stop his cry of pain.

The sound of Adelay’s laughter formed a ball of black rage in his heart.  Darc reached an arm up toward her neck to strangle her but was stopped by the ogre. After a struggle the ogre’s fist slammed into his other eye. 

When he could breathe again, Darc asked, his words directed at the nobleman. “You rotten bastard. Why?” 

He could barely make out the face so much like his own.  “Because you have everything that should have been mine. Now I have it, along with the love of my life.  She should have been my wife. My wife!” 

Something glinted in front of his face.  But with his good eye now swelling closed, Darc could not make out what it was. 

The nobleman continued in a mocking tone, “I think our prisoner would like to have a word.  Hmm, what does The Beast of Renald wish to say?”

“She chose me. A mistake I see now.”  Darc’s words were slurred but all in the room heard the rage in them.  His wife’s form appeared next to him. Her scent, that scent of hers which had driven him mad wafted over him now and made him want to gag. Her beautiful face twisted with disgust and the glint of the object now was held in her hands.

“You bastard! I never loved you.” She shrieked in his face.  Darc fought against the darkness reaching up to consume him, but he was losing.

She reached out and grabbed a fistful of his hair. He was losing strength by the second.  He could not breathe from the pain and the damage the ogre had caused in his chest. He choked and blood gushed from his mouth.

“Before you die, know this. I loathed every time you touched me. ”

Darc knew she lied and he managed to choke out at the same time he spat his blood in her face. “You still lie bitch. Come time you will tell him the same.”

Her cry of rage came with her words, “Beastly Bastard! Your face should match the rest of you and the name that follows you far and wide.”

Then came, the agonizing pain of something cold slicing into his face and laying open his flesh from temple to chin. He felt air on his gums and teeth, and nearly bit off his tongue to not cry out.  His strong will infuriated his tormentors and as darkness finally came, he welcomed it and heard Adelay’s last screaming words.

“Your son waits for you in the afterlife. It should have been Raven’s child that I birthed, not yours.”

Darc took her words with him into hell and with his heart vowing vengeance.

Caroline could not sleep and she was not sure why. Kelbie slept quietly as he’d done so for the past sennight and had not suffered from his night terrors since he’d started spending time with Darc. Caroline did not know a smile came to her lips as she looked over at his small frame in his bed. Mildred’s snores came through from the adjoining room. But that was not was keeping her up.

Caroline walked around the room. It did little to tire her. ‘Twas her mind, full of thoughts that kept her up. She went to the window, the black starless sky made it hard to see anything beyond the curtain wall save for the glowing torches below illuminating the inner ward. She saw a few soldiers moving about their posts. 

Darc’s friend was gone and he had returned back to the castle late. She had seen him when she’d come to her chamber to ready Kelbie for bed. The memory of the kindness he had shown her during the Lord of Westlan’s visit Caroline wondered if it would continue.

When her pacing failed to tire her thoughts, she cursed and crawled into bed. Something woke her later. She climbed off the bed.

Kelbie still slept and Mildred’s snores told her she still did too.

Caroline opened the chamber door. Nothing seemed afoot till she glanced down the hall at her husband’s door.  She bit her lip, thinking about the night he’d had his nightmare.

She found herself at his door and didn’t remember walking to it, but she opened the door.

The air changed and she knew her instincts were proven correct. He was tossing upon the bed twisted in the coverlet. Caroline went to the bed and called his name.

He struggled more and knowing what she must do, she climbed on the bed. But this time she was more cautious, remembering the last time and positioned her body in such a way that he would not so easily be able to grab her throat.

This time, he shouted out expletives and words of death to someone called Raven. Even in his dream she could hear the venom in the threats and she cringed under the feeling of unease it caused in her gut.

But his body, his chest bare, was hot as if he had a fever and she called out his name again.

He shot up so fast. His head hitting her jaw sent her sailing backwards off the bed to the floor with a squeal of pain. She felt his large hands on her at the same time he called her name.

‘Caroline! What in the blazes-’

‘I- you were having another nightmare.’ She rubbed at her chin as he pulled her up onto the bed not so gently with both hands under her arms.

‘How did you get on the floor?’ he asked, his tone laced with lingering anger.

She told him and he yelled. She gave him a confounded look as he inspected her chin.

‘Next time stay away.’

His rumbling bellow made her jump, but she would not back down. ‘A bump on the chin never hurt anyone. ‘Tis fine.’

‘Did I not say stay away!? Fool-hearted woman you are. Next time could be worse.’

‘Do you recall the dream this time?’

Her determined eyes looking back at him made him curse.

Caroline sighed and worked her jaw from side to side. He could shout all he wanted, but she would know what his nightmares were about tonight.

‘Who is this devil of a man, Raven, that holds you prisoner in your dreams?’

He paled instantly. She had not truly expected him to respond and ignore her query as he had before. Shock ran through her when he did.

‘My brother.’ His strained answer drew her closer.

Brother? Caroline frowned. She knew so little about this man. ‘Where is he? Did something happen to him?’ the questions poured from her and all he did was stare at her.

The raw pain and deep hurt she read in his hypnotic gaze made her reach out to him, but he rolled away from her and got out of bed. The moment of finding out more broken.

She would not allow it. The pain in his eyes caused her to go on. Taking a deep breath, she asked sadly, ‘Does he live?’

An angry curse came from him. ‘I do not wish to speak of it.’

Caroline climbed off the bed and stood at the foot of it, a hand on one of the curtained posts. She surmised the subject was too painful for him and the look he was giving her said to leave it. She would for now and instead asked another question which burned inside her.

‘Why do they call you The Beast?’

More silence. But she saw him stiffen when he turned his back to her.

Her eyes looked over every inch of his broad back. He had more than his score of battle scars across his well-muscled body.  The biggest disfigurement was on his face. Rumors- many ran throughout the countryside preceded this man for one to possibly believe all of them. They could not all be true, could they?

Devil on the field, with a legion of followers that had butchered the Saxons by a mere look from him. Another, he went into huts during the night, killing all right down to infants. Skinning and burying innocents alive, setting a torch to anyone who even dared glance at him while their loved ones watched.  And many more horrid tales.

Caroline needed to know, watching his back the reason why he was called such.

Had it been because he’d murdered his wife? Disemboweled his Norman bride and ate of her innards? That one she knew could not be true. They had made him out to be a true monster and aye, she had seeds of her own horror in her gut when she had first met him.

But now…

She had glimpsed a gentle side behind that fierce countenance.

Hidden well it was but she had seen it. Like tonight, even though his mood was black tonight, the remnants of his dream still hanging over him, his fingers had been gentle along her jaw and worry had been on his face.

Then there was how he was with Kelbie.

And his lovemaking more than proved there was more to this man than met the eye. ‘Darc, will you not answer my question?’ she pressed.

Without looking at her, he walked over to where his clothes lay discarded and reached down for his boots. Caroline remained where she was.

She watched the muscles flex and move across his ribs, the sides of his stomach as he bent for the second boot. She was growing quickly impatient with his blatant disregard.