Chapter Thirty-One

 

Damon and his men gathered in the courtyard as the golden rays of morning spilled around them like an overflowing cup. His head swam with thoughts of Gabriella. He knew it was not possible for her to kill someone, yet he couldn’t get over the shock of seeing her, knife tumbling from her bloodied hands.

Stirring from his thoughts, he turned them towards the plans they had set to track the rebels. Gabriella would have to wait, for now. He needed to settle the business at hand. Then he could deal with whoever was responsible for the servant Anne’s murder.

Until then, they had planned that Sir Richard and his men would travel southwest, skirting around the forest as Damon and his men rode straight into the forest edge. They would then track west, meeting up with Richard somewhere in the middle. If the rebels weren’t found, they would then enter the forest in lines of four men spread within yelling distance apart until they picked up a trail.

There was no point of traversing back across the plains to any of the villages, since Richard had already advised that there wasn’t much left of the majority of villages between here and Woodmir.

But, when Damon found these rebels, they would all pay with their lives for the untold numbers they had massacred in their bloody uprising against their King. He mounted Fallon, the great horse, dancing from side to side, anxious to be on his way. “Sedrick,” he yelled to the young knight as he was storing away the provisions that had been handed out to each of the men.

“Aye, milord,” he replied looking up from his task.

“Come. I have a task for you.” Leaning down from Fallon’s side, he advised Sedrick of the duties that lay before him. “And do not forget, my young friend,” he told him, “Pasquel is not to be trusted for anything. Keep him away from the dungeon. The only person I want having contact with Gabriella until I return is Rosalynn. She has already been advised that she is not to let Gabriella out until I return and am able to sort this business out on the death of the servant girl. Am I understood?”

“Aye, milord.”

“Good. John will remain on guard of the keep, and Smedely is around somewhere if you need anything else.”

Sedrick nodded his understanding and Damon turned Fallon toward the bailey walls. He didn’t know how long he would be gone, but he did not have the time right now for Gabriella, and he knew that when he returned she would be very angry with him for having placed her in the dungeon. He would have to deal with her wrath at a later time.

Riding across the bridge, he kicked Fallon into a full gallop and gave the horse his head as it led him away from one mystery to another—the rebels. He knew without a doubt that this time, there would be no escaping him or the justice of his sword.

* * * * * *

Gabriella plopped herself down on the straw cot in the dungeon room she had stayed in as a guest before. Damn him! How the hell could he do this to me? He knows I could never hurt someone, let alone kill them. Especially that poor girl, Anne. If it is anyone’s murder he should be worried about, it should be his own. For I swear, if he survives those damn rebels, I’m going to kill him myself when I see him. Gabriella swore vehemently as she stood and started pacing the small cell. The main guard was the same one who had been on duty during her last stay in the dungeon and she knew he would provide her no means of escape.

Her situation appeared hopeless. Again. Why is the cosmos against me? What have I ever done wrong? There was no point to asking these questions. Her current life had become a mystery and she had no idea of the outcome.

With a deep sigh of anguish, she sat back down on the cot and waited. She had no idea how long Damon would be, but she had a very bad feeling that it would be some time.

As the light began to fade away from the small opening of window at the top of the cell, she knew that the castle would be preparing for the evening meal. She was hungry from not having eaten all day, what with her stomach giving her grief this morning and then finding Anne dead in the storeroom. She wondered if she had already been forgotten. Wondered if Rosalynn thought that she may have killed the poor girl and that was why even she had not brought her food, or a blanket, or even her wise advice.

Watching the sun set beyond the window as night fell around the castle, she heard the guard lighting a sconce in the wall outside her cell.

“Your meal has arrived,” he grunted, moving out of the way to reveal Rosalynn in the shadow of the flame. She carried a tray laden with food, a pitcher filled to the brim, and an extra blanket thrown over her shoulder. The guard unlocked the cell door and ushered Rosalynn in. “You are not to stay long and are to call me when you are ready to depart. It is his lordship’s orders,” he told Rosalynn as though an explanation was required to the elderly woman.

“As you say,” she replied.

“Oh thank God, Rosalynn,” Gabriella exclaimed, wanting to throw herself into the woman’s arms, but could not due to the tray she carried. “I thought you had forgotten about me. Or worse, that you thought I’d killed that poor girl and hated me. Never wanting to see me again.”

“Silly girl. Of course I do not believe you capable of such a thing, but there is definitely trouble about, and we must stay aware of those around us.”

“So it’s true then? He has gone after the rebels?”

“Aye, but it is what he is, my dear. And what he must do because of it. You cannot change the dragon’s scales nor tame his nature. You must love him in spite of his smoke and fire.”

“I do love him, Rosalynn, and that is what scares me the most,” she stated, crossing her arms over her chest, turning to stare out the window.

Rosalynn grunted a reply and placed the tray on the cot, setting the blanket at its end. She stared at Gabriella’s squared back for several silent moments before saying, “Come, dear, sit and eat. You will need your strength for what is ahead.”

“What is ahead, Rosalynn? Do you truly see the future? Can you tell me where it leads?” she asked sitting on the cot’s edge and grabbing a piece of bread.

“At times I see a great many things in the circle of the water. The gods even choose to speak to me when they are able. But what they show me is not always certain. It is possibilities of what may come to pass.”

“Do you know what will come of me? Will I ever see my home again?” A sad weariness overcame her.

“That choice will be up to you, my dear,” Rosalynn told her, reaching to take her hand into the warmth of her work-worn fingers. “You will see your opportunities before you. It is then that you must decide what the best choice is.”

“Will I choose correctly?” Worry laced her voice.

“Only time will tell, milady. Only time will tell.”

As Rosalynn left the cell, she swore she would return in the morning with clean water to bathe with and a small repast to break her fast.

Gabriella sat back on the cot with her back against the wall. She drew her legs up under her and wrapped her arms around them as she thought about what Rosalynn had said. She’d spent half the night thinking of her choices if given the opportunity. Would she stay or would she choose to leave this place? To leave Damon, the one person in the world that she loved more than anything.

As she lay down to sleep, her last thoughts were of him. His gruff voice whispering to her softly of his desire. The way his silver eyes flashed when he looked at her with want. The way his lips tasted when they kissed. Spreading the extra blanket over her, she closed her eyes and dreamed of him beside her, holding her close through the night.

Dawn seemed to come quickly, and Gabriella stirred beneath the blankets. Her head pounded and her stomach churned with the slightest of movements. Sitting up quickly, she threw the blankets off her and reached for the chamber pot, once again losing the entire contents of her evening meal.

Rosalynn found her hunched over the chamber pot as she entered the cell. She glared at the guard, then scolded, “Why did you not come get me if you knew she was sick?”

“I did not know, milady. I swear to you.”

Rosalynn sidled past him to the heap that was Gabriella hunched over on the floor.

“My poor dear,” she said, taking a cloth and wetting it, wiping Gabriella’s forehead. “I am here now, I’ll take care of you.”

Gabriella knew she must look as awful as she felt. Her head swam and her stomach turned like too many twists in a roller coaster. Her thoughts made her sick again.

When she finally finished, Rosalynn laid her back on the cot and covered her with a blanket. “Rest now, milady. I’ll watch over you.”

Gabriella slept off and on throughout the day, never feeling well enough to rise from the bed. By evening, she tried to eat some of the broth that Rosalynn had brought her and small amounts of the bread.

Every morning she would wake sick, unable to keep anything down for any length of time. By the time a week had passed and the morning sickness continued, she knew with certainty that she carried Damon’s child.