Alary cocked an eyebrow. “We shall see,” he said, stepping back from her, out of striking range. His sister was a warrior at heart and she was not afraid to attack him and, truth be told, he had a healthy respect for her because, at times, she could be just as unpredictable as he could. “After I am finished interrogating your Norman friend, I shall take him back with me to Tenebris.”
Tenebris was a hunting lodge used by the Mercian kings but since Edwin had exiled Alary, it was now the place where the dark brother lived. In the wilds west of Kidderminster and located in an area known as the Far Forest, it was a place that most men avoided now. It had a reputation of darkness and debauchery. Ghislaine knew that if her brother took the knight to Tenebris, no one would ever see the man again.
I would like to see my wife and daughter again.
If de Lohr went to Tenebris, that would not happen.
“And do what with him?” Ghislaine wanted to know, hating herself for sounding as if she cared. “He is my prisoner. I told you that. You have no right to take him with you.”
Alary grinned. “Little Ghislaine and her prize,” he mocked. “Thank you for capturing the knight. Now I shall take him from you. If you want him back, then your men will have to fight my men for him. I think my men want him more, eh?”
Ghislaine’s general attitude towards her brother was one of disdain but there were occasions when she genuinely hated him. This was one of those times. He was teasing her, trying to bait her, and it was difficult not to respond to it. He’d been doing it all their lives and the brother/sister dynamic could be more emotional than most.
“If that is your wish, then I shall order my men to retake him,” she said, trembling because she was so angry. “And when they are done defeating your men, I will have them go after you.”
Alary was smug in his stance. Before the situation grew out of hand, he went to the truth of the matter. “Let me be plain, little sister,” he said. “If you send your men to take him, I will kill him before they can do it and that will be the end of your prize. If you do not wish him harmed, then it would be better if you did not try.”
Ghislaine knew it was not a threat. This dark and hateful man would shove a dagger between the Norman knight’s ribs purely out of spite, because he would not want his sister to have him and for no other reason than that. The knight would cease to be a captive at that point and simply become a possession. Therefore, the hatred in her heart towards her brother was building.
“Why would you do this?” she demanded, frustrated. “I told you that a Norman spared my life, which is why I spared the knight’s. I told you that he was my prisoner. You have no right to take him.”
Alary was moving away from her now, heading in the direction his men had taken the Norman knight. “Yet I have taken him,” he pointed out, taunting. “Come for him if you wish. I will kill him before I surrender him to you.”
Ghislaine watched him as he went. “Edwin shall know of what you’ve done.”
It was meant to be a threat but Alary simply shrugged, turning and heading off into the darkness. Her threat had no meaning to him.
Even after he was gone, there was a stench in the air that suggested his evilness had not left at all. It was still there, all around her, his gloating victory in taking her prisoner from her. Infuriated, it was all Ghislaine could do to keep from shouting in anger. She had a bow and a quiver of arrows slung over her back. Had there been any light, she would have sailed one of those deadly darts right into her brother’s back and felt no remorse at all. He’d taken what belonged to her.
The Norman knight.
Now, she was thinking of him, the big warrior from across the sea. Norman knight. Damn the man. She knew his name now and she knew he had a family; a wife and child he adored. He’d asked her to let him go and she’d refused. Now, he was in Alary’s hands and that more than likely would mean his death. Tenebris… indeed, it would mean his death.
Ghislaine could hear sounds in the direction the knight had been taken. There were a pair of fires in the darkness, cooking fires for men to warm a meal out of whatever supplies they happened to have. Not strangely, she could hear what sounded like a fight because there was a good deal of thumping and slapping going on. Men were laughing. It didn’t take much imagination to realize that they were beating the Norman knight again, probably because Alary told them to.
De Lohr, his name had been. Regardless of Alary’s threat, Ghislaine couldn’t let them beat the man to death. She was compelled to protect him again.
As she headed over in the direction of the noise, her thoughts turned to what de Lohr had told her. Mayhap someday, you will send Gaetan a missive and tell him what became of me so that he can tell my wife. I hope that you will tell him that I met my end bravely, for that is what I intend to do.
Such noble words from a man who had shown nothing but quiet resolve and bravery throughout his capture. He’d never wept, or begged, or shown weakness in any fashion. Even when he’d asked her to let him go, he hadn’t pleaded with her. He’d simply asked. Norman courage. She admired it, far more than she admired Anglo-Saxon mercy at the moment. Surely such a courageous man didn’t deserve the fate that awaited him.
Something inside of her was screaming to help him.
More than that, something inside her was screaming for vengeance against Alary. Cruel and wicked bastard that he was, he could be erased from the world tomorrow and no one would miss him. With his taunts and actions, he had pushed her beyond reason and there was a large part of her that wanted vengeance against him. Tonight, he took her prisoner; tomorrow, who knew what he would take? Moreover, he’d accused her of siding with the Normans. That was unforgiveable slander because Alary wouldn’t keep it to himself. He would tell others about this day and it was quite possible that men would start to doubt her loyalties. It would destroy all she’d worked hard for.
Something had to be done.
Gaetan de Wolfe. De Lohr had mentioned the man as his commander. He had asked her to send a message to him. Perhaps she could do more than that; she could tell de Wolfe just where her brother and de Lohr were. De Wolfe could save his man and Alary would be collateral damage. Odd how that thought brought a smile to her lips. Her greedy, wicked brother would be dead and so would his suspicious mind and uncontrollable tongue. She would be doing her people a favor, in fact, and Edwin might even thank de Wolfe for such a service.
There might be some kind of bond struck between the Normans and the Earl of Mercia because of it.
A bond over Alary’s death.