The Beast of Renald (The Northern Knights) (5 page)

An old woman dressed head to toe in black voluminous skirts shuffled from the shadows and greeted him. Other servants peeked round the corners from the arched alcoves that lined the wide and dimly lit long corridor. Finally, her husband opened his mouth, his blue eyes locked on hers as he addressed the servant woman.

‘See that she and the child bathe and the stench is removed from their flesh. Their journey here has been long, hard and tiring. They will take their meal in their chamber. See that a platter of plenty along with drink is sent as well. What I need to discuss with her can wait till the morrow.’ 

He’d spoken as if she were not there.  Something in Caroline folded over that and she could not explain it. ‘Twas not a sign of a good start.  Too dazed and lost yet in the whirlwind of horror of the past days she bit back the urge to hurl a scathing retort at his dark head. As it was she barely managed a nod when he executed a slight bow and mumbled, ‘My lady.’

His clipped tone filled her shocked ears and caused a shiver to ripple through her already quaking form as he continued, ‘Laur will show you to your rooms.  See that you and the boy remain there until you are summoned.’ Turning on his heel, he left them standing there in front of the curious and displeased gathered servants.

Alone and shivering. 

His long cloak billowed out behind his tall frame and Caroline watched him until the dark corridor swallowed him whole. 

Darc walked away ignoring the torment of her bare emotions in her wide eyes and gaping mouth. Those haunting eyes had looked his way too often on the journey here and had bothered him a great deal. Ignoring her had not helped much. He told himself he cared not for what she had to say now or if she was upset with his order. She needed to get used to it.  Sooner rather than later. 

‘Come Kelbie, we shall see what waits for us in our rooms.’ Caroline leaned down to the little boy’s ear and he turned wide brown eyes of fright on her, his tight reddish-brown curls moved with the light draft blowing through the dark castle. 

‘Ma-Mama? We stay here?’

‘Aye, we stay.’

His bottom lip poked out, tears filled his eyes and Caroline felt her own tears sting hers. 

‘I want to go home,’ he sobbed.

She picked him up and snuggled her face against his neck. So did she! Even as horrible as Halvard had been, she knew what she’d faced there. Here, she did not.  Looking up, she caught Laur’s nod and followed the older woman up the winding steps.

 She hugged Kelbie’s tiny little body tighter to her chest. She wanted to turn and run back home too. But their home had been burnt to the ground. The old servant moved to close them inside the cold room and her cool tone broke the quiet.

“The bath will be here straight away. Someone will be up in the next hour with your supper.’ 

‘Wait!’ Caroline cried out, her hand outstretched. 

But the woman closed the door on them with a boom. Even the room was nigh bathed in darkness. Two tapers lit in the corner showed a large four poster curtained bed, two large chests of fine wood, a vanity with a small looking glass above it, a door that looked like it might lead to an enclosed smaller chamber and her soot stained small sack of belongings sat on the floor next to the large stone hearth that took up the whole wall on the other side of the decent sized room.  There was enough room in here for both she and Kelbie. 

She was glad for she did not wish to leave her son out of her sight as long as they remained under this roof. 

Kelbie’s quiet sobs broke her heart and she tried to set him down, but he refused, she sat on the thick rich furs upon the bed and rocked him. Once he slept she would examine the room more. She was so very tired and dirty.

Her new husband’s face came back to her. He might have been considered handsome at some point in his wretched life if he not had that uneven and hideous gouge on his face. What was she thinking? Caroline released a heavy sigh. Her mind was still numb from the jarring events of the past few days.

That ill-healed scar ran the length of his chiseled face and the dark whiskers which covered his strong jaw did little to hide it. His hawk like nose looked like it had been broken more than once. But it was his penetrating blue eyes that had seemed to burn right down into her soul that held her attention when he had stood like a wooden and broken man beside her in the quick ceremony.

After the king had departed, they had ridden hard and fast here. He had spoken not a single word. Not even the simplest inquiry to her about their well-being. She knew he had felt her eyes on him for though he spoke not a word, his eyes watched them closely.

Aye, this Norman was indeed cold. Had she no need to survive for Kelbie, she wished she lay as dead as her first husband.  

Kelbie’s relaxed breathing told her he’d fallen asleep and she laid his small body sideways on the high bed, drawing the fur coverlet over him and removed his dust covered and scuffed shoes. Quickly she wet a soft cloth in the water filled washbowl and carefully wiped the smudges of soot free of his face, hair and small hands. He moved not at all and once done, she stepped away from the bed.

Only then did she allow her emotions to become unhinged and her tears to fall. His little body looked so vulnerable and small. How was she to protect him?

She had little choice. She had been forced to marry this lord in front of their new king, by royal decree. Darc Renald may not want her or she him, but neither had had a choice. Had he’d given her the chance he would have learned she had not wished to marry him anymore than he had wished to marry her.   

Now she had to play yet again a dutiful wife to a man not of her choosing. Caroline sucked in a painful breath to ease her churning stomach.

Briefly Mildred’s hushed whispers came back to her of how his first wife had met her death over five years ago. Rumors had spread that he, the beast, had devoured her. But that was just plain silliness, Caroline knew. He was just a man. Suspicion surrounded the woman’s death, aye, but as to what really was truth, she knew not and she never had been one to believe in rumors.

The few inhabitants of Castle Renald still seemed to be in mourning including him. This made her wonder if there were some feelings in him after all. Then she thought of the harsh and bitter look he’d given them in the hall. Caroline shivered. They both came into this marriage with their own secrets. She pushed aside the thoughts as they whirled in her head, there were more pressing matters at hand that she had to deal with. 

Eager to be out of the filthy clothes she’d been suffocating in for the past few days, she undressed in front of the low fire burning in the hearth. Extra logs lay in a basket on the other side of it. She tossed one in and looked back to the bed when sparks and spit hissed loudly, crackling in the room. Kelbie did not wake.  The poor thing was exhausted, as was she. She noticed some of her hair had been singed and would need to be cut. She had stood too close to one of the fires when she’d gone back inside to salvage what little she could, which had not been much. The heat from the flames had pushed her back.

Fresh tears stung her eyes as she used her fingers to comb through the rest of the tangled mess and they fell as chunks of her hair came out. By the time she was finished, a small pile lay on the floor at her feet and Caroline dried her tears. Nothing she could do about it now. Silently she gathered up the pile and cast the hairs into the fire.

Stretching and massaging her neck, she walked over to the washbowl and picked up another clean cloth. She could not wait for the bath.  

Her ablutions complete she crawled on top of the bed next to Kelbie and pulled the coverlet over them both. She yawned, pushing away the fear of what the morrow would bring and soon fell into a deep exhausted sleep.

Darc stood over the bed watching the fair-haired woman and child. His blue eyes sparkled in the dim light and stood out against the black of his cloak. With her face now clean, his new wife actually looked pretty, although she fretted in her sleep. The little boy had moved only once in the time he had stood over them, watching.   

His gaze fell upon the uneaten platter of food and the wooden tub filled with water. 

The two had slept right through the buckets being carried in by the servants. Reflexively, his fingers worried the deep old scar along the side of his face as he stepped away from the bed to the hearth. He bent and carefully set another log in the hearth.  The fire lapped at it hungry and quietly. It would burn through the night and keep them warm.

Drawing his long cloak about his tall frame, he cast another look at the two in the bed. Something in him longed, yearned for what he had lost so long ago. Then his face twisted with ire and a little resentment.

He would not allow himself to care so deeply again. He could not bear it. Never would he be able to go through such heartache and despair. Not again. He would not survive it. 

Darc’s inner turmoil caused a ragged sigh to escape his parted lips. She would not mean to lie, not mean to cheat, not mean to take the boy from him, but it was their nature. Women. Saxon or Norman. And he would not be taken down that foolhardy path again.

Besides, he had read the loathing in her eyes from the bloodshed he had spilt at her home. War was never meant to be pretty. The ache in his chest grew, constricting his breathing as though in objection of his thoughts.

After some time, he left the room on those dark thoughts and closed the chamber door quietly behind him.

He was full of rage over what would take place on the morrow. They were to take their vows again. William wanted them to be married by a Norman priest and it had been arranged for them to marry in the small chapel attached to the south end of his castle. 

Taking his black warhorse Gray out of its stall, Darc climbed onto the animal’s back. He would leave his hounds in this night. He wanted no distraction from their barking in their excitement at seeing him. He rode out towards the dense forest that lay on the east side of his keep.

CHAPTER FIVE

Caroline woke to find Kelbie’s feet digging into her stomach, she straightened him and he moaned in protest in his sleep, and then was quiet. Adjusting her eyes, she frowned, daylight streamed through the two narrow Norman windows in the room and she groaned. Her tired eyes still burned. 

She’d slept next to none at all on their travel here. How could she? So much had happened.

Lord Halvard had died the way he’d lived, brutal. The image of his severed head came back to her and she winced.  As brutal as it was, she had not cried over the loss, for her life with him had been far from kind.  

His brutality to her during their five years of marriage had barely been tolerable. She could still feel the lingering vengeance and hatred alive in her veins. Her attempts to murder him in his sleep had only caused his cruelty to increase tenfold and brought the feel of his weighty fists against her cheek all too often. In a sense, he had met a just end, she thought, then quickly made the sign of the cross over her chest for such dark thoughts.

The Normans had come, murdered, conquered and destroyed everything.  She barely had scare time to breathe before she had been forced to take one as a husband. She would never understand the way of men. Saxon or Norman. Seemed they all thought alike. Power, wealth and gain.

She just wanted to be left alone.

Lord Halvard had been sickly and he’d nigh  twenty summers on her, but this Norman warlord was around her age of twenty-seven summers or more and he looked to be a strong, virile man and that thought terrified her. His large hands would shatter her bones were he to hit her or were he to ever strike Kelbie. 

Sighing she rose from the bed and started to freshen up. She would do everything in her power that she could to avoid putting them through a nightmare like that again.

Soon a knock came to the door and Caroline opened it to two dour-faced older maids. Both women came in chattering and mumbling betwixt themselves.  

‘My Lady,’ one addressed her clearly. ‘Do you wish to be bled ere the ceremony?’

Aghast, Caroline stepped back from them, shaking her head. ‘N-Nay. That will not be necessary.’

She was pale enough and needed no leeches on her skin. Face paint had never been something she’d delighted or took pleasure in, despite Lord Halvard’s persistence. On that she had won because he’d too many other things to occupy his time instead of being bothered with petty women matters.

Helen on the other hand could not go without it. What Caroline had seen her cousin go through, the trouble and length of time it took, and looking as though she suffered, but for the good, Helen had insisted. Caroline wouldn’t wish the ritual upon her worst enemy.

The maids seemed almost relieved at her response and went on moving about the room. Their fussing about woke Kelbie and he stuck his thumb in his mouth, climbed down off the bed to cling to her leg. 

Caroline wanted to unpack her own bags, not that there was much of anything in them, but the dark looks the maids sent her had her think otherwise. Their snobbish attitude caused anger to rise in her.

She straightened her back and ordered them to leave her things alone. Their eyes widened and they shared a shocked look before mumbling something about order and getting her ready. The priest had arrived and they would take the boy with them so she could dress. That set Kelbie to wailing. 

Once Caroline got him to calm, she kicked the two maids out.

Another buxom maid replaced them and she was even meaner and tried to browbeat her into letting them take Kelbie out of the room. Caroline could not believe the boldness of his servants. Soon, this one too followed the same route as the prior two. 

By then, she was good and well heated. The next knock nearly shook the wooden door from its hinges and she jerked it open ready to give a good go, but she froze. 

Darc stood there himself, a dark scowl of irritation upon his face and towering over her.

‘Must you begin this day already with trouble? We are to wed in the next half hour officially as ordered by our King.  There will be no more delays. I have other important matters to attend. Give me the boy.’