Angie Arms - Flame Series 03 (17 page)

Roland was different.  Garrick knew a great deal about Damien
LeForte, and knew before his brother Cyrille was his closest confidant, it was Roland.  He knew of the loyalty the men had for one another.  That he was here now, told Garrick that Damien had all but washed his hands of him.  Garrick tried to approach the knight with patience, but that was something foreign to both of them, and Garrick had no patience for the other man's insolence, and so it had come to blows.  In the end Roland was blissfully unconscious when it was over, and Garrick had a ringing headache and ribs that ached from the man's powerful and quick blows.  It solved nothing between them, at least Garrick did not think it had.  It only accomplished what he suspected Roland wanted, to be blissfully unaware of the world around him, even for a short time.

Garrick stopped in his tracks, staring at the intricate tapestry that now hung over the doorway to his chamber.  He studied it for a moment, the great warhorse depicted on it was entangled in vines that threatened to overtake it
, but a warrior was hacking away at them with his sword.  Overhead a hawk flew, its beak open as it cried out, avoiding the vines itself.  Along the edges were smaller depictions of the same scene as horse, knight ,and hawk fought the vines.  In some they were trying to grab the knight, others the hawk, but always the knight was hacking away until he reached his horse's side.  The last in the far bottom right corner was the knight cutting the last vine from his horse, and the hawk settling onto the giant animal's back.  That this hung outside his chamber pleased him, and he slipped behind it.

The chamber he stepped into was nothing he would have recognized as his own.  The fire burned low in the hearth
, and the tapestry over the door helped hold the heat in, so the room was invitingly warm.  More of the tapestries hung on the walls, insulating the room further, and brightening it with all of their colors.  A table had been placed on one side of the room, with chairs boasting of brightly colored cushions, the table top glowing to a polished perfection.  The bed he had once slept in was now transformed with all the colorful pillows he had once seen on Ryann's bed back at Kilkenny.  Standing on the bed, intent on the veil like material she was hanging from overhead to shroud it, was his wife, the lacy material wrapped around her as she stretched upward, her breasts pushing against the fabric of her bodice, her feet bare as she teetered on the edge of the mattress.  Sarah stood on the floor below her, holding one end of the fabric as her mistress tied it to the tall posts of the bed.  It would do very little to hold the warmth of the bed in with all the holes in the lace, but he had to admit there was something provocative about the fabric, perhaps it was just that his wife was wrapped up in it. 

Sara's head snapped toward him as he entered the room
, and immediately obeyed when he nodded toward the doorway of the chamber indicating she was to leave.  Taking her place by Ryann he stared up at his wife, her delicate features intent on her task so he was free to peruse her small frame. 

"Sara, I need more," Ryann's voice said
, tugging at the lace.  Garrick did not know how long she had been trying to free the fabric from beneath his boot, but he quickly stepped off it.  "Thank y..."  Her voice trailed away as she looked down in surprise at him.  Garrick' breath caught in his chest.  He had not taken note of the color of the gauzy fabric, but it was a deep blue that seemed to magnify the blueness of his wife's eyes, as she gazed down upon him.

"My lord," she said
, dropping the end she had and working her way free.

"My lady," h
e replied, watching her as she fought with the lace.  He could imagine his wife wrapped in the folds of the lace with nothing else covering her body.  He immediately hardened at the thought.

"I hope you do not mind my changes," she said behind him
, when he fled to the hearth.

He gazed around him before directing his gaze down to her.  "I like the changes," he said
, his mouth going dry.   Just a moment ago he swore he would not touch her, the evening meal was waiting their leisure, and his thought was only on the evening ahead and the joy he would find between his wife's legs.  Yet, the cobweb that hung from her golden locks was too much of a temptation he was reaching for, before he could stop his hand.  He touched her soft hair, pulling it from its golden perfection.  Her trusting gaze as she looked up at him made him swear, and then he grabbed her, pulled her to him, and fused his lips to hers.  She tasted so good, like a feast for a hungry man.

His fingers entwined in her hair, trapping her, tilting her head back so he had full access.  When his tongue stroked into her mouth
, she groaned and he felt as if he would explode.  His arms tightened, his fingers pulled, and a small gasp escaped her lips.  That gasp made his control teeter precariously on the edge.  What pushed him over were her fingers entwining themselves in the cloth covering his chest, and digging through until he felt on fire where she touched him.

He needed her pressed against him.  He needed something that would not yield beneath her
, and the closest thing was the table or the floor.  He chose the table and thrust her toward it, her legs scrambling backward until her delectable rear came up against it.  The force she hit made another gasp escape her, not so soft this time.  He moved his hands from her hair, yanked her skirts up to her waist, then lifted her quickly, sat her with a jolt upon the table.  Through his pants he pressed himself into the warmth between her legs, and he wanted so badly to sink himself to the hilt inside her, but he could not bring himself to part from her lips.  His hands went back to her hair, and with a hard jerk she cried out as he pulled her head back.  His lips trailed down her neck, his teeth tasting her, savoring her every gasp.  He knew he brought her pain, but when a moan of pleasure left her lips, his head shot up to look down into her blue eyes clouded by passion. 

"Don't stop," she pleaded. 

"Look at me," he said harshly, as their blue perfection tried to drift closed.  His fingers dug into her scalp, and she opened them on command.  Untangling his one hand, he roughly pushed her thighs wider where they rested against his.  Deftly he sunk two fingers swiftly into her warm and wet depths.  She was ready for him, her body told him as well as her cry as soon as he penetrated her. 

Her head fell back on her shoulders and she moaned loudly as he circled his fingers within her tight sheath.  Her eyes drifted closed
, and he yanked again on her soft hair.

"Look at me," he ordered.  Her eyes flew open and there was such need mirrored there he wanted to die.  While he worked his fingers in and out of her wetness
, she continued to hold his gaze as the moans escaped her.  "I am going to bury myself so deep within you tonight," he said, doing just that with his fingers, her head fell backward and a throaty moan escaped her.

"Look at me," he ordered again.  She was a little slower obeying this time
, as her body quickened with his touch. 

"Now," she panted
, as her eyes locked with his.

"No, not now.  We have an entire household waiting for our arrival down below."  With that he swirled his fingers within her again
, then plunged them deep.

"Oh Garrick," she called
, her head falling backward again.  His fingers dug even more roughly into her scalp, as he pulled it back up. 

"Look at me," he said
, but his voice held a tone of desire and not a demand.

Her eyes opened and he saw something within them he recognized.  She was close to a release
, but he wanted it to come as he pounded himself inside her, not with his fingers.  Suddenly he slipped them from her silky wetness.

"Please Garrick," she said, her thighs clamping against his as her fingers clutched at his arms. 

"Not now.  Tonight, we will finish this."  He turned away, then because the keen disappointment in her blue depths beckoned for him to finish what he started.  "I do not wish to rush.  I intend to enjoy being buried in you for a very long time."

Her lush mouth formed an o
, and he nearly raced back to her side.  "Come," he said instead, calling on the strength he fought for all the years of his past.  "Let us eat, then I will bring you back here and I will make you my wife truly.

~ ~ ~ ~

Ryann felt the disappointment keenly as she snuggled into the blankets of Garrick's bed.  How could one evening go so wrong?  She knew deep down her husband would not be joining her
, as he said he would.  If only she knew his intentions when she went to take her seat.  He pulled the chair from beneath her and she fell into the floor, banging her head against the seat so hard she saw stars. 

She had not heard Roland's comment or Alena's.  Apparently they had been enough to make Garrick angry
, because he stormed from the hall leaving her in the floor.  He did not come back to eat his meal with her, and as darkness settled over the land, she sought the warmth of their chamber, and waited for him there.  But he would not be coming.  She knew him well enough to know his anger would win out over his lust.  She felt her own anger build, but she was not the kind of person anger ruled.  It quickly fled, leaving her with lonely sadness in its wake, and eventually she dozed.

Chapter 12

"I need to talk to you Countess," Alena said, sliding into Garrick's chair next Ryann the following morning, as she just began to eat.

Ryann laid her stale bread to the side, this food really wasn't fit for pigs.  Today she would begin to correct that problem.  When she turned to look at Alena she had to school herself quickly so her mouth did not fall open in asto
nishment.  The burgundy gown Alena wore hugged her curves to perfection.  Her hair artfully designed so it fell about her slender neck giving her a completely seductive look, even on the scarred side of her face. 

"Okay Alena," Ryann said but her temper was on edge from the previous night and her absent husband.  The fact of the matter was
, she just didn't like the tone of Alena’s voice.

"What are you doing to Garrick?"

"What do you mean?" Ryann asked, not liking it one bit Garrick's pouting was her fault.

"I mean he is growing soft.  He's sulking for God's sake," she said with disgust.  "I know the signs well."

"I have done nothing that put him in his current mood."

"What fool woman does not know when her husband is seating her?"

"Wh-what?"

"You let him pull the seat right from beneath you.  I saw him help you from your horse.  What possessed you to do such a thing? You could have been killed.  You could meet the man halfway you know."

Ryann had no response so sat staring at Alena stupidly.  "He is trying to learn to be a gentleman."

"What do you mean a gentleman?"

"By all that is holy, you really know nothing do you?  Garrick is terrified he will not measure up to what your expectations of a husband.  He also fears hurting you, because never before has he been a gentle man."

"Why would he think he is not what I would want in a husband?  He is strong and brave.  I am safe with him."

"Every one of his scars comes with a battle.  He has laid his life on the line to get where he is, and you are the ultimate prize.  To lose you would be to lose everything."

"How do you know this?"

Alena scoffed, "because I have studied men.  It was important in my past to know what a man was thinking before he himself knew.  Garrick would never show this weakness to just anyone.  He has begun ridding his army of the bad men.  I think he is ready to become a real man, and a real husband and father, but he can't unless you participate in this little seduction I set up for you."

"You set up?"

"Yes," she said, pausing a moment to eat a piece of what Ryann could only guess was meat, from the trencher placed before her.  Ryann had not been brave enough to try hers.  "He asked me what he could do to make you more ready to receive him.  So I told him to help you from your horse, pull your chair out, and give you gifts.  I regret it has not worked out.  He is quite the awkward idiot isn't he?"

Ryann burst out laughing, suddenly at ease with the woman.  She truly had no interests in Garrick by her own actions.  "What is wrong with these people?  Do they not eat this trash they serve us?" Alena asked with contempt
, as she dropped the brittle item back onto her trencher.

"Are you trying to turn into a lady?" Ryann asked
, eyeballing the expensive tunic she wore.

A smile broke across her face.  "No, I am just trying to get back at Marcus.  He was a total ass the other night."

"And what would that be?" she asked, looking over Alena's shoulder to see Marcus standing against the wall, his eyes boring into Alena's back.

"It is a long story
, but he said I could not get a man if I tried.  So I'm trying."

"I thought you didn't want a man," Ryann said
, remembering similar words leave the woman's mouth herself.

"I don't, but that's not the point."

"Oh," Ryann got out before Alena stood and bid her good day.  She walked to Marcus whose nostrils flared and his eyes should have singed her, but he stood completely still as she went to stand before him.  "Do you want to play games Sir Marcus," she said, stressing the title.  She reached her hand up and tapped him on the chin once.  "I'll gladly play games with you," her voice was low and seductive, but they stood close enough Ryann could hear every word.  "But you may not like the outcome." 

She turned and walked toward a group of men sitting at a table
, some were young and rather attractive.  Marcus stared toward her as she settled herself on the bench, the seating so tight she brushed sides with both men on either side of her, who stared at her with awe.  They did not see the scar on the one side of her face, which was how seductive this woman had suddenly turned.  Even Ryann felt hypnotized as she watched her laugh, tilt her head just so, and bat her eyelashes at the right time. The men were eating out of her hand. 

Suddenly Ryann was angry because this place was full of women such as Alena, women who knew the art of seduction so well
, they used it for their own survival.  Alena's revenge was somewhat amusing, but it reminded Ryann what she had to do.  It was a task she both relished and dreaded, but one that had to take president over even the atrocious food.

She sent word all the women of the keep were to gather in the hall
, and the men were to be banned during that time.  It was shortly before the noon meal was to be served by the time they were all gathered, and roused out of bed she assumed, judging by the appearance of some of the women.  Other than the women she brought with her, Alena and Sara, it appeared as if all the other women who found their home within the keep were whores.  She felt the tear threaten, but schooled her features and stiffened her spine, as she made her way to the dais.

She motioned for Alena to join her.  Already back in her men’s attire the woman had a glint of amusement in her eyes
, and pretended to not understand.  Ryann sent her a scowl before turning her attention to the women before her.

"As Lord Garrick's wife he has given me free rein to make improvements to our home I see fit.  As of now I extend an invitation to stay within the household
, but in order to do so I will find tasks so you may earn your place here.  If you do not wish to be servants within this keep, you must leave."

The women were turning to stare at one another, a whisper began among them, but no one seemed ready to take the offer she was giving
, so she realized she must be blunt.

"No longer will the men say if you stay or go.  That decision will be mine and Lord Garrick's.  Also know
, if you wish to continue to sell your bodies, that must be done outside these walls because I will not allow it.  It is a disruption to the tasks needing to be accomplished, and to the men who must guard us."

"But what of the men?" one of the women boldly asked. 

"They will not care we have other duties," another said.  "We are only afforded their protection because they receive something from us."

"The men will have to get around to a different way of thinking
, because you all will be providing a different kind of service.  This will help the atmosphere of the keep, it will also give you women a choice as to who you will accept, if anyone.  That too will be your choice, and you will have Lord Garrick's protection in this."

"We can tell the men no?" a small mouse of a woman asked tentatively
, from the back of the room.  It was only then she noticed the bruises on several of their faces, and the other signs that told her plainly these women had been brutalized for far too long.

"You are encouraged to tell the men no," Ryann said
, with renewed confidence in what she was doing, and it became clear she was not just doing this for her own peace of mind, but it would protect these women as well.  "You may choose to lay with a man, but that is to be entirely your decision, and it will not be done for any monetary gain here.  If you continue to ply your trade, I'm sure the men will set up a place for you within the village."

"I will give you until after the noon meal to make your decisions whether you will go or stay.  All those who wish to stay I will meet in the solar
, and we will decide on what your new tasks will be."

~ ~ ~ ~

Ryann did not know if any women decided to go
, because the number who gathered in the solar that afternoon was surprising.  She wasn't sure why, she assumed the women wished to do what they did, and had not thought until then they only sold themselves because that was all they had to barter with.  She felt pride as she walked to the front of the chamber and all eyes turned toward her.  She was freeing them from a life Alena had led, from a life Garrick's own mother had led.

"The first order of business is to find who among you can cook," Ryann began.

A few voices were raised and the women shuffled to allow three of the women to come forward.  "Very good," Ryann said. 

"The next task will be to plan an herb and vegetable garden.  I have seen the keep does not have its own
, which might account for some of the horrid meals.  Who would be up for this task?"

She spent the rest of the afternoon assigning tasks best suited to the women and their abilities.

"Who has not received a task?"

From the corner of her eye she watched Alena take a small tentative step forward.

Ryann schooled her features to conceal her surprise, and smiled fondly at her friend while her mind quickly searched for a task that would give her purpose, as all the other women now had.  "Of course Alena, you will have the most important job of all.  Since the men of this keep will not be used to being denied by all these beautiful ladies, you will be tasked with teaching them how to defend themselves."  Alena did not smile, but somehow Ryann knew this task pleased her more than any other could have.

"Now we shall go together and see how we all might begin with our new places here."

~ ~ ~ ~

"What have you done?" Roland asked, his tall form advancing on her, his fury palpable in the stillness of the old garden area in back of the keep.  She spun quickly, noting with irritation the two women moved behind her, as if she alone could protect them from this man's anger.

"Of what do you speak?" she asked
, having full knowledge of what angered him.

"Who do you think you are interfering with the way things are done here?" he demanded
, coming to tower over her.  She pitied him, she could see his pain in his blue eyes, the line around them, his haggard, unkempt hair and sunken cheeks.  She wanted to alleviate his pain, but the women would no longer be his outlet.

"I am the lady of this keep.  I answer to Garrick and only Garrick," she said
, feeling her anger rise with the fear of this man.  Didn't her husband say he was not so different from himself?

"You will answer to Garrick and every other man who has found his pleasure with this keep's whores.  You can't just tell them no, that they cannot make their living," in his fury she saw his need to ring her neck.

Ryann snorted at his gall, as if he was concerned for how these women would live.  "They are earning a living, it is just the way they choose.  If you do not like this, I am sure Garrick will hear your argument."  She was not all that certain on which side he would choose, but she hoped she would be able to give him a taste of what the women, as servants, could accomplish before he made that decision.

The man glared at her for a few heart beats
, and in that time Ryann felt as if she may quake under the scrutiny, but in the end Roland only scowled then turned and stalked away.

"You were very brave," one of the women, Bee, she recalled being told, stated.  "You do not anger Sir Roland or Lord Garrick for that matter," she continued
, only to trail off on the last word, realizing she spoke to the Lord's wife.

"From here on you women must also be brave.  Do not allow them to bully you
, for they have Garrick to answer to.  He will stand behind me in this matter, of that I am sure."

~ ~ ~ ~

The low flickering lights of the candles darkened the chamber casting longer, deeper shadows.  That alone did not plant a seed of apprehension within Garrick's gut
, but the anger he could feel emanating from King Richard sowed it.  Richard was scouring the countryside for soldiers and money to send him back to his next Crusade, while making enemies along the way.  With his focus on Ryann, Garrick ignored the king's summons to meet with him at the neighboring keep.  Garrick knew why he was being summoned, the King would gladly take gold from Garrick, but what he wanted from him most was his sword arm.  He had weighed his options, and though he had no option other than to go or make an enemy of the King, he had chosen to stay, tired of battle and all that came with it.  He left to tell the King himself, not telling anyone, other than Marcus, where he was going.  It would only be their concern if he did not return.

“What of Damien?” the K
ing questioned.  “I still do not trust him.”

Anger flared within Garrick.  Of all the men who could possibly be loyal to Ric
hard it was Damien.  Garrick sold his soul to the highest bidder, but Damien was, and always would be, true to the crown.  “I have seen nothing from him that would make me question his loyalty to you sire,” Garrick said, with a slight bow as he tried to remain humble before a man as powerful as the one who stood before him.