Achill wind stole up Ariel’s spine as she stood on the battlements looking out over the dark valley. The sentry moved past her, but said nothing. She knew he must think her mad the way she’d stood here since supper broke apart. Yet that didn’t concern her. It was her husband’s absence that continued to plague her thoughts most.
Though she could scarcely see more than a few feet from the gate and her body shook from the cold, she couldn’t leave her post. She needed to watch for him. Something inside kept her feet still, her gaze locked onto the eerie forest below. If she listened carefully, the rustling wind would fade and she could almost swear she heard Valteri riding over the land, searching for the comfort he needed.
“Milady?”
Ariel turned, expecting to see the sentry. Instead, it was the eldest Saxon nobleman. A frown lined her brow. Whatever could he want with her?
“Greetings, milord. What brings you away from the fire?”
“Like you, I couldn’t sleep. I thought a walk might calm my troubled thoughts.” His gaze drifted to the sentry several feet away and he whispered, “’Tis most difficult to rest in the home of my enemies.”
Were it not for the humble look in his eyes, she would suspect him of mischief. But as she watched him, she saw a man reserved, not one out to make more trouble. “You have no enemies here.”
A shadow darkened his gaze to a deep, almost unreadable hue. “Nay, milady, you are not, but your husband most definitely is.”
She opened her mouth to speak, but he raised his hand to silence her.
“I meant no offense. In truth, you remind me too much of my own sweet Wenda for me to offend you.”
She detected the softness in his voice as he spoke the woman’s name. “Wenda is your wife?”
“Was,” he corrected, his voice strained, and his eyes as sad as if his grief still lay fresh within his heart. “I fear she died two years past while birthing our first child.”
Sympathetic pain coursed through Ariel and she reached out to touch his arm. “My condolences.”
He nodded, looking away from her. “It was hard at first, but I have long since come to terms with her departure.”
Rubbing her arms against the chill, Ariel noted the catch in his voice. It was identical to the one in Valteri’s when he’d spoken nearly the same words earlier that night.
Did all men speak denials against the pain in their souls even though it was obvious that they burned there like fires?
Did the denial help?
Nay, not likely. Men seemed to forever state the opposite of what they needed. What they yearned for most.
The Saxon took her by the arm and led her farther away from the sentry. “Milady, there’s a personal matter of which I’d like to speak.”
Instantly suspicious, she looked at him, confused by his words and what question he’d dare broach. “You ask after a personal matter when I don’t even know your name?”
He smiled, yet it did nothing to allay her fears. “Forgive my oversight. I’m called Ethbert.”
“And I’m Ariel.”
“Aye, milady. I asked after your name several hours ago.”
She stiffened her spine in apprehension. What would cause him to ask after her? “Why?”
“I…” His voice trailed off and he looked away. After several minutes, he drew a deep breath. “At first I thought you Norman, what with the way you spoke their language, but a short while ago your brother explained to me what had happened. How the Norman forced you to take his hand.”
More suspicion mixed with her fear, narrowing her sight. She could well imagine what stories her brother might tell. “And what did my brother say?”
“That the Norman demanded you marry him. That he gave you no choice.”
Fury blotted her thoughts. “’Tis a lie!”
He furrowed his brow and stepped away from her, his gaze wary. “What?”
“Aye, you heard me.” She ground her teeth over Belial’s treachery. “Lord Valteri, unlike my brother, asked me whether or not I agreed to the union. I accepted Valteri of my own free will.”
Still, skepticism shone deep in Ethbert’s eyes and he laughed bitterly. “Do any of us have a choice anymore where our lives are concerned? Since Harold fell, I doubt any of us can choose aught without Norman consent.”
The hostile fury in his voice surprised her. A deep forboding started in her soul and begged her to listen. “I hear rebellion in your tone.”
He looked at her in startled alarm. “Nay. I have accepted my country’s defeat.”
“Then why have you left your home?”
He shrugged and braced his arms against the wooden battlement before him, his gaze focused into the dark distance. “We’re traveling through, on our way to see if our sister survived the invasion. Ill rumors have passed to us of her abasement and we wish to see for ourselves what has become of her.”
Her anger failing, Ariel nodded her head. “Then I shall pray for her safety.”
“My thanks, and I shall pray for yours.”
“Why? I’m not in any danger.”
He shook his head, but didn’t look at her. When he spoke, his tone was grave. “Methinks you are in far greater danger than you know.”
Belial knocked the crone away from him, his anger burning deep inside. Brittle leaves rustled beneath his feet as he walked a circle around the clearing, his thoughts churning over her disclosure. “How could you have been so foolish!”
Rising from the heap where she’d landed, Mildred wiped the blood from her lip and narrowed her eyes. “’Twill work, I assure you.”
“But why?” he insisted between clenched teeth, his hot, angry breath forming a cloud. “Why would you make the Saxon swoon for her when ’twill serve no purpose other than to turn Valteri away from here?”
“Nay, ’twill raise his jealousy!”
Belial seized her again and drew back his arm. Before he slapped her, he stopped himself. No need to abuse her further. The damage of her stupidity had been wrought. All he could do now was try and salvage as much as he could.
Why can I never have an intelligent accomplice? Just once!
He wiped his hand over his chin, trying desperately to think of something. But he was weary, too weary to think clearly.
Valteri refused to stay by Ariel’s side long enough to consummate their union, and so long as he chose to ride about the countryside, Ariel would remain chaste and pure.
Dammit! How he hated self-control.
“Just you wait,” the crone began again. “When Lord Valteri sees his beloved in the arms of another—”
“Arms of another?” Belial spat, his fury pitching in his demon’s belly. “Ariel will never allow such. And even should she, Valteri will no doubt leave. He’ll look upon the Saxon as a worthy replacement for himself.”
Belial sighed, forcing himself to calm so that he could focus his thoughts. “You’re so stupid!”
He needed a better class of minion.
And he needed one fast.
Thorn pulled up short as he entered his tent and found the last thing his shitty day needed.
A confab of Arelim waiting on him. They were the guardians of humanity. Those assigned with making sure the demons didn’t overrun or overstep and wreak even more havoc than normal on the unsuspecting weak.
And not just any Arelim. The head bastards of them.
Michael, Gabriel, and Sraosha. It was enough to make his ulcer have a baby, given that he usually only saw them when they were at the end of his sword, trying to kill him.
Even though they were supposed to be on the same team.
These days.
Back when he served his father, they were fatal enemies. Somehow the bastards had missed the memo that he’d switched sides and they were now supposed to be playing nice with each other.
Thorn inclined his head to them. “Assholes, to what do I owe this displeasure?”
Michael bristled before he grimaced at his companions. “Told you we were wasting our time.”
Gabriel held his hand up to silence him. Unlike the fair and ever perfect Michael, he was dark in skin tone and eyes. Even with no hair, he was still every bit as beautiful as one would expect from the winged guard. “We have a situation.”
“I figured as much since I didn’t think you were here to invite me for tea and biscuits. Not to mention the battlefield I just left where we are getting our asses handed to us by our enemies.” Thorn set his helm down on his chest and reached for his particular “mead” to pour himself a flagon. “I would offer you a drink, but I don’t think any of you have a stomach for my vintage.”
Sraosha curled his lip. “We don’t need a demon!” He moved to leave.
Gabriel grabbed his arm. “Today, we do.” He pierced both his companions with a hostile glare. “In case you missed our earlier discussion and as you just noted, Belial is kicking our asses. To track a demon of his level, we need a demon of his level. Our Necrodemians are worthless.”
Thorn snorted. “So glad to hear you admit that.”
“Don’t get cocky. Your Hellchasers won’t be any better.”
“Depends on the Hellchaser.” Thorn winked at Gabriel. “I assure you I have some that can bring that bastard down. Myself included.”
Never mind the fact that he had a grudge against Belial that was a long time coming.
Thorn took another swig. “So what’s Baby Belial doing to make you crazy? I thought I was the only one he was picking on lately.”
Michael finally relaxed. “I wish. He’s captured one of my lieutenants.”
Thorn arched a brow. “How’s that possible?”
“We’ve no idea. Her name is Ariel and we can’t find her. No one knows where she is or what happened to her.”
“Thought you were omniscient.”
Michael sneered. “Don’t make me hit you.”
Yet Thorn so loved tormenting him. This was what he lived for.
“Anyway,” Gabriel said, drawing his attention back toward him. “We need you to find her and return her to us.”
No small feat there. “Well, you’re in luck. I was about to go hunting anyway. It dawned on me that my favorite menace wasn’t here. Which had me wondering why his troops were attacking so vehemently.”
Gabriel frowned. “I don’t understand.”
Thorn let out a weary sigh. “Hence why you get your asses kicked all the time. Called distraction, buddy. Vicious little war tactic. Keep your enemy’s eye on one thing while you go off and do something else. It wasn’t until a couple of days ago that I caught on to what the dipshit was doing.”
Normally, he wasn’t so slow on the uptake.
But things had been a bit hectic lately.
Because of what Belial had been doing to keep him distracted.
“We don’t play games with people.”
Thorn choked on his drink. Yeah, right. “The fact that you can tell that lie with a straight face offends me.” And that was the basic difference between their sides. With his former ilk, they made no bones about the fact that they were evil and couldn’t be trusted.
With Michael and crew, they lied and promised utter faithfulness and honor.
Until they stabbed you in the back while smiling in your face.
But then that was the thing about betrayal. It could only come from people you trusted. Those you didn’t expect it from.
Good news, he never trusted anyone. His childhood had tutored him well on just what traitorous, lying bastards everyone could be.
Even his own mother.
He pitied the rest of the fools who had yet to learn the lessons his youth had taught him.
“So you want me to find your soldier. Return her to you and banish Belial back to his hole.”
“Exactly.”
He nodded at Gabriel. “An Arel … I’m thinking that’s worth at least twenty pardons.”
Michael gaped. “Twenty? Are you mad?”
“No. Quite happy, point of fact. I have you three in my office, begging me for a favor. That always makes my day. Now, I have the ability to strong-arm you for new additions to my army. That makes me even more deliriously Panglossian.”
Sraosha made a sound of supreme disgust. “This was a waste of time.” He started to leave.
Gabriel stopped him. “We need him.”
Sraosha and Michael growled low in their throats.
Thorn smiled. He loved whenever he had them over a barrel.
Gabriel scowled. “Why are you so dedicated to helping the damned escape the sentences they’ve earned?”
“Because unlike you pricks, I understand the difference between those who are born rotten and those who made mistakes because they were fucked over by creatures like you who ensured that their only choices in life were bad and awful. Just because someone was betrayed into committing acts they didn’t want to do, I don’t think that they should be eternally damned for it.”
Or, in his case, because they’d been betrayed at birth by forces conspiring against an infant.
“Rather than pat myself on the back for some imagined goodness I was supposedly born with and never earned, I’d rather actually go out and do some good for others.” Thorn cleared his throat. “So do we have an accord?”
Gabriel nodded. “But I have the right to veto five of your choices.”
Thorn bristled, but knew that if he didn’t give in, they’d refuse the bargain entirely.
Saving a single Arel from Belial would be worth pulling twenty souls out of their respective hells. Too many had been damned for wrong reasons. He was all about redemption and giving others a second chance.
People like him.
So far, he’d only been wrong a handful of times. Most of the souls he’d bargained for had done him proud.
The few who hadn’t …
He paid dearly for those mistakes.
So had they.
By his hands.
“Agreed.” He held his arm out to Gabriel.
With a grimace, Gabriel shook his hand. “Find her. Quickly.”
Valteri paused at the castle’s site. Darkness lay across the stones and half-built walls, turning their shapes into ghastly, evil beasts that could frighten even the stoutest of hearts.
That was what people thought when they glanced upon his own likeness, even in the full light of day.
Against his will, Ariel’s words drifted through his mind, and he flinched at the truth. Perhaps he did provoke some of those fears by his words and deeds. But then it’d always been easier to allow people their beliefs than to try and make them see past his deformity and into his human soul.
As a child, he’d reached out to the brothers and they’d recoiled in horror.
Or backhanded him for the affront.
As a squire, his lord had shied away from him just as the monks had done. Indeed, if not for William’s direct orders, no lord would ever have accepted him as a squire.
“You’re a freak, boy! Be glad I owe the duke a favor, else I’d throw you to the wolves for fun.”
Even now he could hear his brother’s men arguing over who would take him, and Will’s voice ringing out in an order for his best knight, Hugh, to take him.
Hugh had quickly made certain Valteri knew better than to approach him on any matter. And when Hugh had bothered to train him in war, Valteri’s lessons had been hard, brutal, and malicious.
Since the moment of Valteri’s knighting, Will had urged him to take lands and a wife. And each time he’d turned aside Will’s offers.
How happy his brother must have been when he received news of his union, but Valteri knew he could never have the happy marriage Will shared with Maude.
Nay, no matter how much his fetid heart cried for him to stay, he must leave.
Even though part of him longed to believe that Ariel, Will, and the children wouldn’t be the only ones to accept him, he knew better.
Life didn’t work that way.
If wishes were horses, even beggars would ride.
This one afternoon in no way made up for his lifetime of hell.
Will was king and no one would dare mock him, but Ariel and the children could easily turn into Edna. To this day, he was haunted by the kind old woman who’d once taken mercy on him and who had been branded a witch and driven from her home. But not before they’d thrown everything from rocks to rotten vegetables at her. Burned down her cottage and slaughtered her animals.
Last he’d heard, she’d starved to death during the winter months, while she’d been forced to beg.
Just like her, they would be abused and tormented for their charity toward him, and he had no desire to see them hurt because of him.
Not when he could prevent it.
Despite the denial of his soul, Valteri knew what he must do. In a few hours, once dawn arose, he’d summon Wace and make his way toward London.
There, he’d make certain William gave him his release. Then he’d return to battle.
It was what must be done.
Wheeling his horse about, Valteri headed for the manor.
Out of nowhere, something streaked before his destrier. Ganille reared, kicking in fright and bucking as Valteri jerked the reins to avoid the unknown object. Whatever it was, it jarred his senses while he struggled with his mount.
His horse refused his commands.
An unfamiliar stench filled Valteri’s nostrils, choking him. Ganille shot up the hill and again the streak appeared.
It hit the ground in front of them.
“Whoa!” Valteri pulled the reins.
Shrieking, the horse reared against the partially finished wall, penning Valteri between his backbone and the damp stone. He cursed as the rough masonry tore through his tunic. Pain engulfed him, but still he held his seat.
Then suddenly, the reins broke from his hands and Valteri found himself on the ground beneath the thrashing hooves. Instinctively, he put his arm up to shield his face. Sharp hooves struck the bone of his forearm, numbing the full length of his arm until he could scarce lift it.
Lowering his head, he tried to get away, but Ganille followed as if he were an enemy in battle, kicking and bucking. A thousand pains racked his body from each and every strike of those biting hooves.
Barely able to breathe, he finally succeeded in pulling himself away from the frightened horse.
Aching in pain, Valteri lay to the side of the wall as agony tore through him. Damn, it hurt.
Dampness covered his right temple and cheek. Without checking, he knew it for blood. Aye, the salty taste left no doubt.
He needed to get back to the manor before he passed out. Last thing he needed was to be unconscious out here, exposed to the elements and wildlife.
Exposed to enemies who wanted him dead.
When he attempted to rise, his sight dimmed even more and he fell back to his knees.
He drew a ragged, pain-filled breath. He’d never make it back in this condition.
Out of the hazy corner of his gaze, he saw a white wolf approaching. His body burning with agony, he pushed himself up and stumbled toward his horse.
He reached for his sword that was strapped to his saddle, but Ganille bolted at his approach before he could unsheathe it.
Too tired to resist, he fell to the ground where he was sure the wolf would end his useless life. At last Ariel would be spared his presence and the mockery of his people. Mayhap it would be best for him to die like this.
Closing his eyes, he waited for the wolf to rip out his throat.
Ariel woke up with a start. A haunting howl echoed in her ears from some faraway wolf that stalked the night. One that seemed oddly familiar.
A sudden image appeared in her mind. She recoiled in horror. Somehow, she sensed Valteri’s pain. Heard his short, raspy breaths as he struggled for consciousness.
He was hurt, she knew it. She didn’t know how, yet she couldn’t deny the part of her that heard him whisper her name, the part of him that reached out like a desperate soul from the grave.
Throwing back the covers, she bolted from the bed. In seconds, she donned her clothes and rushed into the hall, seeking Wace where he slept against the far wall.
“Wace,” she whispered, gently shaking him awake.
He yawned widely before opening his eyes to stare at her in disbelief. “Milady?”
“Aye.” She pulled his blanket from him, and glanced to the other people sleeping nearby—which reminded her to keep her tone low. “We must hurry.”
“Hurry?”
“Aye,” she repeated, trying to stifle the agitation in her voice. “Your lord needs you!”
He glanced about the hall like a drunkard seeking his ale. “Is he here?”
Seriously? Why would she be waking the boy if Valteri were here?
Biting back her irritation and sarcasm, she handed him his tunic. “Nay. You must help me go to him.”
Frowning, he stifled another yawn as he shrugged on his tunic. “What do you mean, go to him?”
Ariel gathered his shoes from the floor and urged him to take them. “He’s injured and we have to help him.”
“He’s injured?” That chased the sleepiness from the boy. He grabbed his shoes and donned them. “Where is he?”
“The castle site.” She scowled as soon as she spoke. How did she know that?
Yet she was most certain she would find him there.
Wace paused in tying his breeches and stared up at her as if he doubted her sanity. “What do you mean he’s—”
“Enough questions! We must hurry.”
Though she could barely see his face in the dark shadows, Ariel had the distinct feeling he wanted to argue further, but he held his tongue.
Soon they were headed across the yard, and finally into the stable.
Without a word, he began saddling their horses.
Once he finished, Ariel started to mount, but his hand on her arm stopped her. “’Tis unsafe, milady. Many outlaws and rebels travel by night. I think I should—”
“Nay, Wace. We shall be fine. I know it.”
He bit his lip and for a moment she feared he would naysay her plea. “All right, milady, but if any harm should befall you, Lord Valteri will feed my hide to the dogs.” He helped her mount.
“Lord Valteri will be too grateful for your help to be overly harsh.”
“So say you. But I’ve seen him skewer men for far lesser grievances. Such as burning his toast. I’m pretty sure you mean more to him than toast.”
She laughed.
“Which is why I wish you’d stay behind. If something happens to you, milady, I’ll be skewered for sure.” He mounted his horse and they were off.
Breathing deeply, Ariel clung to her saddle and tried to ignore the cold wind that whipped against her cheeks and settled in her bones where it chilled her very soul.
Once again, she struggled with something her mind told her she should know how to do and yet it felt foreign and strange to her.
I won’t lose my saddle. Not now!
Valteri would be all right. The images of wolves in her mind were just the devil’s playthings. And yet she could feel a wolf’s warm breath on her neck, smell its putrid scent as if it stood over her even now.
Eternity seemed to have passed before they topped the hill where the castle’s construction site stood. Anxious and frightened, Ariel scanned the area for any trace of her husband, but only the vacant, isolated stones greeted her eager gaze.
“No one’s here, milady.” Wace urged his horse closer to hers.
“Nay, I know…” Ariel paused, listening carefully.
Once more she heard a faint groan.
“Over there!” She leapt from her horse and ran toward the sound. Rounding the stone wall, she hesitated.
Valteri lay on his side, facing the woods. Even in the darkness, she could see the blood that soaked his clothing, feel his pain as if it pounded through her own body.
Ariel choked back a sob. “Valteri?” She rushed to him and knelt by his side.
He made no move. No more sound.
Was she too late? Her heart pounded in fear as she gently pulled him onto his back. His eyes were half-open and his chest lay so very still.
Terrified, she wiped the blood off his icy cheeks. “Milord, please!” she begged, her throat so tight that she could scarce draw breath.
“Ariel?” he whispered in such a low tone that she barely heard him.
Relief shot through her. Grateful beyond measure, she gave a small, nervous laugh. “Aye, milord. I’m here.”
Wace knelt beside her, his face grim. “We shall need a litter or cart to move him.”
She’d known Valteri would be hurt, but never once had she considered that he, her fierce, untouchable warrior, would need assistance to return. “I’ll wait here while you go for help.”
“But milady—”
“I’ll be fine until your return.”
As Wace opened his mouth, Ariel shook her head to silence him. “Please, no more arguments. You must hurry. I know not how much longer he can last.”
Reluctance shone deep in his eyes, but Wace said nothing more.
As he mounted and rode away, she tore strips of cloth from her underkirtle to bind Valteri’s wounds.
Ariel stanched the flow of blood as best she could, but she feared her efforts wouldn’t be enough. With each frantic beat of her heart, it seemed his breath fell shallower and shallower.
“You should have gone in his place,” Valteri whispered.
“You shouldn’t speak.” She gently brushed his hair from his cheek. “You must save your strength. Besides, I’d have fallen without my brave knight to pull me astride his horse.”
Valteri reached his hand up to take hers, his grip so weak it stole her breath. He placed her hand over his heart and she felt the soft, feather-like beating beneath her fist.
Warm, sticky blood clung to her skin, but she refused to draw her hand away in spite of the panic inside her that urged her to run from the pain she felt.
Nay, she must be strong for him. No matter how much her fear spoke otherwise, she must give him her own strength.
He swallowed and jerked her hand as if a wave of pain shot through him. How he could stand the number of injuries he had and not cry out, she couldn’t fathom. Indeed, she wanted to cry for him, but she knew he wouldn’t welcome her tears, and that alone kept her eyes dry.
With her free hand, she stroked his pale, cool cheek and traced the stubble lining his jaw.
Valteri closed his eyes and panic gripped her heart, stilling it instantly. “Valteri?”
He opened his eyes and looked at her.
Ariel drew a deep breath. “I thought you—”
“I shall live through this, Ariel.” He gave her hand a tight, reassuring squeeze. “The injuries are not as bad as the blood makes it appear.”
She returned his tight squeeze, praying he was right. “I shall hold you to that, and if you speak falsely, I shall never forgive you.”
The intensity of his stare made her tremble.
You must watch him die!
Ariel flinched at the raw, angry voice that shot through her head. Chills spread across her body and she tried to grasp the fleeting memory. Yet it vanished into the depths of her mind like an errant child fleeing at its parent’s approach.
She must remember!
Even her very soul screamed at her to recall the words.
Who had said them to her …
Why?
“Ariel?”
Her thoughts scattered at the sound of his voice. “Aye?”
He cleared his throat and gripped her hand. “I know not why you’re here, but I’m glad you came.”
Holding him close, she smiled, her throat tight with joy and fear.
As she started to respond, she heard the sound of horses approaching.
It was too soon for Wace to be returning.
Valteri ground his teeth and started to rise.
“Nay, milord!” She pushed him back to the ground, then rose.
The riders came closer.
Closer still.
Her heart pounded as she tried to see into the darkness.
It wasn’t until the first rider was almost on top of her that she realized why it’d been so hard to see him. He was dressed all in black. Even his armor, helm, and chain mail were black.
As was his horse.
The knight beside him was in a dark burgundy surcoat over equally black armor.
They seemed even larger than Valteri on his. Deadlier.
Never had she seen anything more intimidating.
How could they fear her lord when these men rode the earth? Surely they were the devil incarnate.…
Her heart pounded so fiercely that she wasn’t sure how it remained in her chest.
She did her best not to let her fear show, but she had the distinct feeling that they knew anyway. Just as an animal could sense fear. She had no doubt that they could, too. That they somehow fed on it.
Soundlessly, the one all in black held his hand up and clenched his fist tight.
“Damn, Leucious, speak to the poor girl before you make her wet herself. I know you’re an arse, but still.”
The horse stomped and snorted as if indignant on his rider’s behalf while his master turned toward the knight in burgundy. Though she couldn’t see his face, she was sure he was smirking at his companion.
And before he could speak, a third rider came over the hill at a breakneck pace.
Only this one, she unfortunately knew.
Belial.
He reined his horse to a hard stop just in front of the two newcomers. Something the poor animal resented so much that it caused him to rear.
Which made the black horse prance and start forward. Luckily, the one called Leucious was skilled enough to hold him in check. But as the men faced each other, there was a tension between them that was palpable.
And it sent a chill over her.
Belial let out an evil, sinister laugh. “Well, well. To what do I owe the honor of this?”
The black knight unsheathed his sword and pointed it straight at Belial’s throat. “I think you know.”
Finally, she saw more of the second knight. His burgundy surcoat held the strangest crest. A white bird that was wrapped within a thorny, gray S. Oddly enough, his destrier matched the same color gray, as if it’d been done apurpose.
“Hand her over and we’ll make this painless.”
Belial laughed at the second knight’s request. “There’s only one problem with that, my brothers. If you take our sister home, her husband is going to object to it.”