Текст книги "Enemy of My Enemy"

Автор книги: Carm Nicosi

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Chapter 5

The group of travelers they were searching for came into sight, much to Justin’s relief. It had been a rough week or so. First, he had been roped into helping Sir Richard, kidnap Lord Brant, on Lady Isabel’s behalf. She was one of Justin’s most powerful allies, holding lands nearly equal to those, held by his brother-in-law Lionel’s entire family. Then, once they had gained Brant’s consent, to wed Lady Isabel, to keep his war with Avery from growing exponentially, Brant balked at a true marriage.

That fact made the success of all their efforts, uncertain. So they had no choice but to continue the groom’s incarceration. Justin had several cuts, scrapes, and bruises from the ensuing scuffle, to return Brant to the dungeon. With the variety of aches and pains from last night, Justin had hoped to take it easy today. Unfortunately, a messenger had arrived with word that Avery, had taken Brant’s sister hostage. They had not yet gotten the marriage documents, to gain authority to guard the girl, until last night. By the time word could be sent, she was already gone.

Right now, Avery and his men, believed Avery controlled Isabel’s forces, which extended to her allies, Richard and Justin. So they were riding to intercept the men, who were escorting the kidnapped girl. As they approached the group, Justin prayed they did not get suspicious. He was already sore from last night’s fight, and hoped he did not have another skirmish, to recover the girl.

“Hey there, Manuel,” Richard called to the leader, as they drew near. “I thought Avery would be with you. We were to meet him at Landel Grange.”

“Avery had to go take care of some other arrangements,” Manuel replied. “He sent us to take this girl, to hold her with Lady Ann. 'E said his business could take two or three days.”

“Avery will not be there, for a few days?” Justin asked, deciding to act as though he did not want to be there, to allay suspicion. “He said he needed us to help coordinate his defense. Are we just expected to wait for him? Do you know where he was going first? Mayhap, we could meet him there.”

“Nay, Yer Lordship,” Manuel answered. “All I know, is 'e is to meet us at this Grange place, in a few days.”

“Well I have no other pressing matters,” Richard said. “If you do not mind, I will just ride there with you, and wait. Justin?”

“That seems to be the only thing to do,” Justin replied. “I just do not like him wasting my time. You are sure, he will be coming shortly?”

“Aye, that is what ‘e said,” Manuel answered.

So Justin nodded to Richard, and the two knights fell in with the others, escorting the two girls. Justin and Richard had four men with them. Manuel was one of a group of six men, plus the girls. Things were even there, Justin thought. He looked over the two girls. One of them had dark hair, and appeared to be numb with shock, as she tightly grasped the saddle on her horse, with her bound hands. She was wearing what looked to be a woolen nightgown. The other female was blond, and although she looked quite frightened, she was determinedly clutching a blanket around herself, with bound hands. Judging from the fine quality of the thin gown, that peeked out from below the blanket, the blond was likely the sister, he thought. Although, Brant had dark hair, closer in color to the other girl. Both girls looked rather unsteady on their mounts, which were being lead by their captors.

After they had slowly plodded along for a while, Manuel said, “I will be glad when we get there. Those two are really slowing us down. That one is afraid of the horse, and the blonde has nearly fallen off ‘er horse twice. She is more concerned about keeping her covers, or we could go faster.”

“There is an easy solution to that,” Justin said.

He maneuvered his destry up beside hers, and lifted her up in front of him, with one very strong arm. She tried to struggle against him a little bit, but quickly gave up, when he cut the rope on her hands, then rapped the blanket around her, trapping her arms inside. After that, they increased their pace, reaching their destination, about an hour later. There was a brief wait, as the heavy gate was opened, to allow them entry. Then, the group rode into the inner bailey, where a well dressed woman descended the stairs, from the residential building, with several men, to greet them.

“Good day, Ann,” Richard greeted, as he dismounted.

“Good day, Richard. Do you have word about Isabel?” Ann asked.

“Aye. We took care of that matter I discussed with you, last night. Who is Isabel’s top man here?” Richard asked.

“Thank God,” Ann said, waving to a knight who waited nearby. “This is Peter, Isabel’s man. Avery only has three men here.”

“Peter, there are six of Avery’s men with us. They were bringing the girls here,” Richard said, waving.

Richard and Justin’s men had remained on their destries, with Justin still holding the girl. Another man lifted the second kidnapped girl from her horse, and moved away from Avery’s men. Others from inside the Castle, came forward.

“Peter, Lady Isabel was wed last eve, to Lord Brant, who is now Lord of this fief. You are to arrest all of Avery’s forces, immediately,” Richard said, producing the verifying documents.

From her seat, pressed against the large hard body of the blond knight, Esme watched her captors being taken into custody. At the same time, her mind was racing, questioning if she had heard correctly. Lord Brant, her brother, had wed Isabel? Esme was not aware of Brant even knowing the lady, so how had he wed her? She looked in confusion to the man who held her.

“Did I hear him correctly? Brant got married?” Esme asked.

“Aye, last night. Are you his sister, or...” Justin asked, trailing off.

“Aye, I am Esme, Brant’s sister. That is my maid, Mary,” she answered, pointing to the other girl.

“I am Lord Justin, an ally of Lady Isabel. This is her Castle, so you are safe now,” he said. “Though, I do not think the plan is to stay here.”

At that point Avery’s men were being lead away. Richard approached to lift the girl down. Then, Justin dismounted, as Esme was lead up to the older woman, who had met them upon their arrival.

“We do not want to be here long. However, the girls will need some clothes, before we continue on,” Richard said.

Mary, who was also being lead up in front of the woman, began yelling, “Nay. I am not getting back on a horse. I ‘ate them. They said they would kill me, if I did not.”

She burst into tears, shaking her head in the negative. Ann glanced at Richard, raising an eyebrow, before leading the two young girls into the residence. In short order, Esme was taken to a bedchamber, where she was provided with a couple of gowns, that Ann said use to be her daughter's. She slipped one of them on, and discovered it was just slightly, too big for her. She picked the blanket back up, to wrap it around her shoulders, again.

“Alright. You have some clothes for now. We need to get going, so that Avery does not corner us here. Your maid will have to stay here, since she is refusing to get back on a horse,” Ann said, leading Esme back the way they had come. “At least, Avery cannot use her, to get to your brother.”

“Where is Brant? I want to see him,” Esme demanded.

“I am not sure where he is. I am sorry. He is somewhere with my daughter, Isabel. I want to see her, too,” Ann said. “Avery was threatening her with harming me, just as he hoped to use you, to hurt your brother. Right now, it is safer for all of us, if he does not know where we are.”

As they exited the residence, Esme said, “I am too tired to ride any farther. They woke me up, in the middle of the night.”

Still the girl was pressured back onto a horse, and they quickly rode back out of the gate. Lady Ann and five men, who seemed to be her security force, joined Richard and Justin’s men. Unfortunately, Esme was too tired and sore, to keep up with the pace the others wanted to ride. So once again, she found herself riding double with the knight Justin. Later, despite the jostling of the horse, Esme fell into a restless slumber. She had been forced to ride for several hours during the night. Then, after a short break to eat, her captors had forced her back on the horse for several more hours.

A while later, Esme awoke, feeling as though she had not slept at all, when Justin said, “We are here, young lady.”

She looked around sleepily, recognizing nothing, until Richard came around, and Justin handed her down to him. He set her feet on the ground, and Ann grasped her arm to escort her into the hall, where a serf met them. Esme was then handed off to the serf, who took her upstairs to a bedchamber. Once there, despite all her doubts about her safety, and her situation, she quickly fell into an exhausted slumber. However, several hours later, her dreams turned to nightmares about being kidnapped. Esme tried to scream, but a hand over her mouth stifled it. Struggling mightily, she dislodged the hand that quieted her cries, and succeeded at emitting a string of blood curdling screams.

“Esme, wake up, you are safe,” she heard, as strong hands shook her, slightly.

Opening her eyes, Esme realized that she was wrestling with Justin, and quieted. Lady Ann appeared in the doorway within a few moments, looking greatly alarmed, and a little winded, as if she had come running from some distance away.

“Oh, my,” Esme mumbled, shaking off sleepiness. Then stronger, with tears welling up in her eyes, she said “I am sorry if I scared you. I had a bad dream. I was trying to scream, but could not, at first.”

"Well, you certainly succeeded in the end," Justin said, smiling as he brushed a tear off her cheek. "You are safe here for now. Although, I am sure you would like to be with people you know. There is still some danger to Isabel, and your brother, that needs to be worked out."

"I want to go home. Mayhap, I would feel better there," Esme said.

"Aye, I am sure you would," Ann said, coming to sit on the bed. "We cannot send you home, though. Avery was threatening all of us, in one way or another. Isabel and Brant wed yesterday, greatly weakening Avery, as far as an army goes. That means deceit is even more of a necessity, if he is to best your brother."

Justin rose, and moved toward the door, as he said, "Mayhap, you should get yourself together, then come downstairs, Esme. Richard can explain the situation to you, as clearly as he feels is wise."

"Aye," Ann said. "He knows all the details, of what is going on. However, I am not sure if he will tell you, any more than he has told me."

A little later, Richard explained to Esme, why she would have to stay with Ann, for some unknown amount of time, in a way that explained very little. Although, the knowledge that Avery was likely, as involved in the death of Isabel's sire, as he was in the murder of Esme's father, convinced her there was genuine danger. The documents he had, showing that her brother had wed the Lady Isabel, also helped to ease her mind somewhat. Justin confirmed what Richard had to say, swearing he had been present, for Brant's wedding. She was far from happy with the idea of staying there, but there seemed to be no other option for her, until Brant came to get her. She certainly could not leave on her own.

Her rescuers, Justin and Richard, stayed there to rest up for two nights, before leaving to continue their maneuvering, to contain Avery, they claimed. Esme hoped it had nothing to do with her screaming in the night, now that she had managed to dislodge the hand that had kept her silent when she was kidnapped. Mayhap, Justin just wanted to go someplace, where he could sleep, Esme thought. He had been given the chamber across the passageway from her, and seemed to be the first one, to hear her screams.

Chapter 6

It had been a couple of days since his "wedding", during which time, Brant had been given water to wash with, in the mornings. Serfs brought him food, and drink, at appropriate times of day that he found himself consuming with some trepidation. He half expected to discover that they had drugged him, again. The guards frequently got tankards of ale for him, that he had not been given, during his first few days there. In between meals, he mostly lay on the bed, waiting to see what came next. Other than the guards, and serfs, he had seen no one since the wedding.

At first, he expected them to make other demands of him, but now he realized the proof of the wedding, was all they really needed. Robert was known by all, to be his trusted friend. Richard seemed to have close ties to Isabel, so he could act on her behalf. The two of them could control both forces, with just the proof that Brant and Isabel had wed, for some time.  Though it was a depressing thought, he could be held here for weeks, possibly months, before anyone got suspicious.

When the serf came to get the tray from the evening meal, Brant was informed that they would bring him water for a bath, if he wanted them to. When he indicated he wanted the water, he was directed to the other part of his cell. He went in, and lay on the bed, knowing they would not open the outer door, unless he was securely locked in. He knew there would be no chance to escape, unless some one made a mistake. When he heard the chains that operated the center door, for the second time, he rose, and walked into the other room. He was surprised to find the serf, Alisa, there inside his cell.

“I am leaving the girl to check yer wounds, and help ye with yer bath. If ye do not like being in there, with just yerself all the time, ye better not give me any trouble, when I come back to get ‘er at midnight,” an older serf, outside of the cell said.

When the older woman finished her speech, she gave the younger one a disapproving look, before closing the outer wooden door.

“Good evening, Alisa,” Brant said, as he noted that several fresh wine skins, had been left on the table.

“Good evening, My Lord. You are looking much better, than when last I saw you,” the girl replied.

She reached up to remove the mantle, that was wrapped around her head, and shoulders. Brant watched as the wrap was neatly folded, and hung over the back of a chair. He noted the delicate neck, and collarbone, that had just been exposed, indicating the serf’s small frame. What the rest of her figure looked like, remained a mystery, under the loose gown that she wore.

“I am feeling much better. In fact, the only lasting reminder, is a slight soreness in my shoulder. Come, and help me with my tunic,” Brant said.

“Aye, My Lord,” Alisa replied.

She moved forward to comply, but he sensed a coolness, a reservation, that made him wonder if the task at hand, was not to her liking. Once his torso was freed of clothing, she looked at the wound on his shoulder.

“You may have a slight infection in that cut,” she offered, in assessment. “When your bath is done, I can put a salve on that, to relieve the discomfort.”

Brant untied the laces on his chausses, and had her assist in removing the tight fitting garment from his legs, while he gauged her mood. The girl stood tensely averting her gaze, from his now naked form. The wench was definitely not pleased that they had sent her to him.

As he moved to step into the tub, Brant offhandedly asked, “How old are you, Alisa?”

“One and seven, My Lord,” she answered, as she stood waiting, to provide what assistance he requested.

Brant lowered himself into the water, and reclined back, resting his head on the side of the tub. As he relaxed in the warm water, he pondered why they would send this obviously reluctant serf, to him. Normally, male guests, traveling alone, were provided with some tart, if they so desired, who was more than happy to bathe them, and let them toss her skirt, for some type of reward. He had several of them at his Castles. He had tried most of them out himself, to see that they were not likely to offend a guest. All of them had lewdly, ogled his naked form. This girl did not even look at him. Was she sent here as some punishment? The old woman who had brought the girl here, certainly gave the girl several disapproving looks as she left her here. Or, were they just testing him, to see how he would deal with the reluctant girl?

Brant sat up in the tub, and instructed, “Come, and scrub my back and hair, Alisa.”

She picked up the soap and sponge, to lather his back, silently. After lathering his hair, and rinsing it with fresh water from a bucket, she moved to his side. Holding the soap, and sponge, she questioned, "My, Lord?" awaiting word, as to what he desired she do next. Brant reached out, and she placed the bath items into his hands, so he could finish washing himself. She moved back several steps, to wait for him to finish.

As he rose from the tub, Alisa stepped forward, with a bath sheet in either hand. Brant took one, and standing naked in front of her, dried his face, and torso. Her gaze remained level, looking at his face, yet not quite meeting his eyes. He reached out to return the damp sheet to her, and motioned for the dry one. When she handed it to him, he wrapped it around his waist, before turning, and instructing her to dry his back. When that was complete, Brant sat down at the table, so she could dry his hair, and see to the achy, wound on his shoulder.

When she finished, he motioned for her to sit at the table with him, and poured some wine into the chalice, that had been left with the wine skins. Brant handed the chalice to the girl, watching as she took a drink, and set it down on the table.

"Most serfs who assist me with my bath, tend to flirt openly," Brant said. "You do not seem very desirous of sharing my bed."

"I would rather not," Alisa replied softly, before raising the chalice, and taking a larger drink.

"You do not like being with a man?" Brant asked, in amusement.

The young girl blushed, as she took several more drinks of wine. She kept her eyes focused on her drink, making no effort to answer his question.

"Alisa?" Brant questioned, demanding an answer, as he leaned forward to refill her chalice.

Her cheeks turned a darker pink, as she replied, "I have never been with a man."

She did not add, that what she had been told she would be expected to do, sounded unpleasant.

Brant laughed, as he said, "I find that hard to believe."

Her eyes shot up to meet his gaze squarely, as she testily retorted, "I find, men see a pretty face, or nice figure, and they go after it. You wear loose clothing to hide your figure, and cover your face, they do not know if you are ten, or one hundred, and do not investigate. Although, I have heard of a few occasions, where a maid has had to lie about her age, to avoid being mauled, by some marauding knight."

"So what you are saying is, you have been lucky," Brant laughed.

Alisa shrugged as she sipped her wine. She hoped he would quickly give up on this line of questioning. She did not see any way to answer truthfully, nor was a plausible lie coming to her mind.

Brant leaned over, and refilled her chalice, again. He wondered if someone had a warped sense of humor. Had the girl been caught lying about her age? It was accepted, that the Lords, and knights, had their pick of the unmarried maids, and serfs. It was their due for providing protection, for the people within the land boundaries. Was it her punishment, to be locked in here with a man, who was very accustomed to women on command? They certainly knew he had not touched one for a week, at least. They had to know, she was not likely to escape intact.

Brant changed the subject to more mundane topics, asking if she lived at the Castle or in the village. She shrugged that question off. So he told her how dull it was, to be locked up with nothing to do all day. He noticed she appeared to be more comfortable, with that line of conversation. Then, the bell sounded outside, indicating the hour of nine o’clock.

“If I tell the serf who brought you to me, you refused to see to my comfort, would you be punished?” Brant asked.

“Aye, likely,” she replied, setting the chalice on the table. He noted that a frightened look crossed her face, momentarily. She continued, “I did not refuse, I said I would rather not, My Lord.”

"Stand up, Alisa," Brant ordered.

She watched him closely, as she rose to her feet swaying slightly, probably from the wine. Then, he instructed her to remove her gunna. She started to open her mouth, as if she intended to argue with him, but closed it again, without speaking. She lowered her eyes from his, as she slowly raised the garment, and pulled it off over her head, laying it on the chair she had just exited. The undergarment she wore, fit her figure much better than the kirtle, she had just discarded.

As Brant rose from his chair, she could see the clear proof of his arousal, through the bath sheet, still wrapped around his waist. He reached for her wrist, before turning to pull her back toward the bed, while she dragged her feet, pulling against him, slightly. At the edge of the bed, he pulled her against him for a long kiss, before pressing her down on her back. When she did not resist, Brant removed her shoes, and stockings. Then positioning himself between her feet, began running his hands over her legs, as he pushed the chemise up her body.

"Please stop," she pleaded, as she felt his hand brushing lightly over the inside of her thighs, pressing her legs apart. Once again, he asked if she was refusing, though he knew it would not matter if she did.

"Nay," she whispered, knowing it would not matter if she did refuse. He had every right to force her.

Brant continued to use his hands, to work the chemise up her body, while his lips followed behind them, and his body pressed her legs apart. Alisa felt him grasp her wrists with one hand, after removing her last garment over her head, as he began to enter her body. His other hand, firmly grasped the back of her head, holding it immobile, while he covered her mouth with his, kissing her as he quickly plunged into her body. She cried out into his kiss, and struggled to pull her hands free, as a burning ache spread between her thighs. Brant held his body still, keeping her helplessly pinned under his greater size, until the pain seemed to ease, and she gave up her futile struggle. As he began to move inside of her, he released his grasp that had held her head immobile. She turned her head to the side, closing her eyes, while she waited for him to finish.

Alisa lay still, with her hands raised over her head, right where they were, when he released them. She was trying not to think about the act that had just been committed on her body. His kisses, and caresses, had been nice, creating a warm, relaxing feeling in her body, so she had passively let him continue, until he entered her body. That had hurt at first. Then it was just uncomfortable, and a little appalling, to have him panting, and sweating on her. She wanted it to stop, but he had her pinned helplessly under him. So she had closed her eyes, and tried to think of something else, as he had his way with her. She did not want to think about it. Unfortunately, he was still on top of her, pinning her body to the bed. Worse yet, she could still feel him inside of her a little bit, though he was soft now. Why didn't he just get off her? How long had he lay there on top of her? It seemed like a really long time.

Alisa felt Brant place several light kisses along the side of her neck. He raised himself up on an elbow, and she inwardly sighed, relieved that he was finally going to let her go. He gently turned her face toward him, placing a light kiss on her lips, before running the tip of his tongue across them. She passively tolerated more light kisses and caresses, thinking those were nice, as she waited for him to move off her. He slowly ran a finger down her cheek, tracing the path of her tears. Then, she felt that soft part of his flesh that was still inside of her, getting firmer.

Looking at him in alarm, she whispered, "No, not again."

"Yes, again," Brant said in a soft soothing tone. "I will not hurt you this time."

He withdrew slightly, then pushed back inside of her a couple of times.

"See? That does not hurt does it?" he asked.

He repeated the slow movements in, and out, of her body, while repeating the question, until she shook her head in the negative.

"No, I am not hurting you," Brant whispered, continuing his slow pace. Then, he began saying, "Just relax. It feels good to have me inside of you, doesn't it, Alisa? Think about it."

Brant continued to repeat that, until she decided he did feel good. Then, he felt really good as her muscles tensed, as if to grab him, and hold him inside her, while spasms of pleasure engulfed her body. Alisa clung to him moaning in reaction, as she heard him moan, his passion spent, before collapsing on her body, again.

This time when his breathing slowed, he rolled off of her, onto his back, and pulled her against his side. Alisa for her part, just let him position her head on his shoulder, and her hand on his chest, under his hand. Her shocked mind, seemed to be incapable of focusing on anything.