The Dark Lady (9 page)

Richard touched her shoulder gently and she realized it was over. She turned to the men and at once they fell to one knee. Tears trembled on the edge of her eyes and her throat constricted in protest. This was not what she wanted. She wanted to scream at them to stay, that she needed them. Instead she smiled bravely and forced her eyes to dry once more.

Richard stood between her and her men. “We will always be loyal and faithful to the Dark Knight, my liege. If you need us, find us, let us know, and we will be there.”

She knew she was doing the right thing, yet letting them go ripped at her heart. Richard dropped to his knee and held his hand up in an offering of allegiance. Van shook violently as sorrow and fear gripped her. She placed her booted foot on his outstretched hand and all their heads bowed in unison.

Van placed her foot back on the ground and Richard stood. He leaned close to her ear, placed a trembling hand on her shoulder, and spoke gently. “I will always be here for you, my child.”

Van only nodded not trusting herself to speak. She knew Richard understood. With that the men mounted up and, with one last look, they reined their horses around.

Pride swelled in Van’s heart at their loyalty as she watched them ride away. None questioned their leader now, not as they had in the beginning. Van had fought for the last three years for the respect now so freely given. She had indeed fought for respect ever since she was ten years old.

At ten she had been the youngest to ever be accepted at Grayweist Castle for page training and unlike most of the other boys she did not come from a long line of knights or from the line of a rich lord. From the very beginning, Van had struggled to earn a place among the boys.

As the men faded from sight she was swept back to her youth...

***

Van’s eyes squinted against the bright sun and dust stung at her nostrils as the boys circled her. There were five of them. Van smirked at them. Excitement raced through her blood. Her stomach was knotted in fear, but she would never allow the others to see it. She would never allow them to have that power over her.

Angry and hurt because she was celebrating her eleventh birthday alone, Van had left her bunk that morning looking for a fight. Her muscles twinged as she forced her body to remain calm. She had searched out these boys. Prowling the grounds, she had come across several boys, all of them alone. Alone they would no longer fight her no matter how much she provoked them. Alone they were no match for her.

Finally she had found a group of older boys. She had barraged them with insults and taunts until they had circled her. Now she trembled in anticipation. She knew she would lose, but they would not walk away from this unscathed. They would know she was one to be respected and she would get her frustration out at the same time.

They closed in, closer and closer until she could feel their breath on her skin. Taking a shaky breath, she ignored her fear and prepared herself for the upcoming battle. Honor and dignity was all she needed to concentrate on as she fought.

The boys attacked.

The images of the boys blurred as fists connected. Time slowed as bodies collided together. Van growled deeply as she scrambled for purchase in the pile. She felt a bone crush underneath her fist as it drove into a nose. She heard a boy scream in agony as her knee drove into a crotch. Two boys pushed at her, driving her face into the dusty ground. She struggled and fought to get free. Blood flowed freely across her face, but whose and from where she did not know.

Then the crushing weight and grunting bodies were gone from her. Jumping to her feet, Van was stunned to see Peter Lawston lecturing the boys on the duties of a page. You do not attack as a group. You do not attack defenseless boys.”

Defenseless boy? Van puffed up her chest and took a shaky breath. Defenseless. Her innards twisted in pain as she fought to remain calm. This was the lord of the manor’s son. This was Peter Lawston, the Dragon Knight and the king’s champion. This was the man she secretly loved.

The boys walked away with only a glance over their shoulder. They were beaten and bloody, but it was not good enough for Van.

Now they believed that Van had needed help and they believed that, because of this man, this man who thought of her as defenseless. Van’s anger grew at what she saw as a transgression against her. How could Peter do this to her?

Peter turned to her with a helpful, look-at-what-I-have-done smile.

“
Helpless,” Van whispered as she attacked. Peter grabbed for her. The helpful, happy smile turned to shock as Van connected with him.

***

Amy touched her arm and Van lashed out barely missing her. Van shook her head and focused on the present.

Fear clouded Amy’s face. She stood tensely, appearing ready to run if necessary. Guilt stung at Van and she winced. “I am sorry. I was lost in thought.”

She waited until Amy smiled and relaxed before taking a step toward her. Amy had quickly become comfortable in her presence which boded well for Van, but she was still nervous about trusting her. It was the best course of action, though, and she would just have to pray that Amy would not betray her, either consciously or accidently.

Van took a deep breath and grinned, hoping that her concerns were hidden from view. “Now, it is time to put your, and my, trust to the test. Can I trust you with my life, with my secrets?” Van reached for the young girl, lifting her veil to see her face. “Do you think I will hurt you? Do you trust me fully?” Van asked.

Van stood steady beneath Amy’s penetrating gaze. She relaxed slightly as Amy smiled and nodded. “You have my loyalty and my trust, my lord.”

“
Good, then I guess I must give you the same. Come, help me get undressed.”

Alarm showed in the blue eyes. Alarm, but not fear. “Okay.”

No fight. Van took a deep breath and ignored the worry that raced through her veins. She had promised to take care of Amy, and she would. She would protect her with her life if need be.

Back in the cottage she stood still as Amy began stripping off the gambeson that she had worn to the funeral. She struggled to keep the unease under control. Who was this young girl who so willingly put her trust in someone else? Van was not sure she could have done the same thing, not until that trust was earned. Not even if her mother had said to.

Van focused on the wall before her as Amy gripped the bottom of her long, baggy black tunic. Amy grunted as she stretched to lift the thick material over her head and when she wobbled Van knew she must be on tiptoe. She closed her eyes as the material slipped across her face throwing her into darkness.

Cool air caressed her bared arm and she flinched when Amy gasped and stepped away. Van held her breath self-consciously and waited for Amy to speak. When nothing came, she cautiously opened her eyes.

Amy’s eyes were wide as she looked up at Van. Van looked from Amy’s face to her own body.

She stood in a pair of long leather boots that stopped halfway up her thighs. Above those was a pair of close fitting tights that rode snug against her long legs and fit tightly against her flat pelvic area. Her tight undershirt did little to conceal the shape of her breasts even with the tight wrap below. She had never felt so vulnerable or so exposed.

Dawning thought seemed to light Amy’s beautiful face. Her light brows arched. “You are a woman?” There was awe and disbelief in her soft whisper.

Van shook her head, taking a deep breath and holding it until small flashes could be seen in front of her face before releasing it in a whoosh. “We have only—” Van stopped. She cleared her throat. The voice that had come out was that of the Dark Knight. A deep male voice she had spent all her life perfecting—a voice that would give her away faster than the scar on her face.

Amy tilted her head and looked at her expectantly. Van groaned and started over, this time in a softer tone. It cracked gently. “We have only four days. I need you to show me how to be a woman.”

Amy’s brows rose in question, or concern, over her task, Van was unsure which. Whichever it was Amy did not interrupt. Van took a deep breath. “I need you to stay by my side as much as possible. I have a bad feeling that the Dark Knight will show his head if I am provoked. I do not know how to be anything else because I have never been anything else. I do not think my new husband will like who I am.”

Van pulled the dingy white undershirt over her head and allowed Amy to assist her with untwining the tight bindings that pressed down the breasts that Van had cursed since they had begun to sprout. She had always thought them a burden. Van stood patiently as Amy stared at her half-naked form.

“
How did I see you as a scary Knight? You are so shapely. You look very feminine.” Amy looked up at her, her voice still light with wonder and amazement. To Van she sounded as if she were a child who was finally allowed to stay up late enough to see the wondrously brilliant sunset.

Van tensed and must have scowled because Amy’s smile fell away and she took a half step back. Those were words that would have resulted in the speaker’s death only days before. Van struggled to relax, but could not.

“
Van?” Amy asked anxiously.

Van knew she was a woman now and she was just going to have to get used to it. Feminine was a good thing for a woman, but twenty years of training was hard to ignore. She could hear her mother’s voice, echoing in her mind telling her, to think like a boy. She could hear the voices of the boys telling her that she looked like a weak girl, and then she smiled as she remembered the blood that had sprayed from their broken noses.

“
It’s nothing,” Van said with a smile.

Amy didn’t look as if she was convinced, but smiled as she stepped behind Van and unwound the thick leather strap from her hair. Van could feel her fingers deftly pulling apart the tangles made by her frantic ride to get to her mother’s side.

No one had ever touched her hair and she could not decide if it was a feeling that she liked. The gentle tugs at the locks of hair as Amy untangled the mess sent small shivers down her spine. They were not totally unpleasant, but it was a strange feeling.

Amy’s hands slid against Van’s shoulders and arms as she worked with her hair. She said in a distracted voice, “You are extremely muscular.”

Van looked down at her arms and realized that they were well muscled, but they were not massive. She had never thought of herself as muscular. Her strength came not from size, but just from sheer determination and cunning. She’d only had the other knights and soldiers to compare herself to and she had always come up lacking.

She had always worked harder than everyone else, wishing that she would grow as big as the men around her. Now her thoughts went in another direction. She was not massive as she had hoped to be, but neither was she petite or tiny. In her mind, no matter what Amy had said, she was not feminine.

Breath shuddered through her as she strengthened her resolve. Being a woman and a wife should have come natural to her, but she had spent all her life as something she was not. She was unsure that she could become what she was born to be.

A knock came at the door. Van quickly tugged her tunic over her head as Amy went to answer the door. She looked down at the shirt, now stretched against her unbound breasts.

Amy screamed in what sounded like horror and Van’s head jerked up. It took her only a moment to pull her sword from its scabbard and tear through the small cottage. She fought a panic as images of Eolian’s men surrounding the cottage swarmed her thoughts. She did not believe that he had found her so quickly, but it was an image that refused to release its hold on her weary mind.

She slid around the doorway of the room and came to a stumbling halt before the front door of the cottage. Verges, a very large and unearthly-looking man, stood holding Amy to his chest.

Tension eased from her body as relief swept over her. He was her spy in Eolian’s army and he was her friend.

Verges’ massive arms wrapped around Amy and a thick, dirty hand was held tight against her mouth. Amy’s eyes were wild and desperate as she kicked and struggled. A low chuckle came from beneath the large hood that covered Verges’s entire face. Her struggles went unnoticed by the massive man.

“
Verges, put her down.”

When he released her without hesitation, Amy fled toward Van. She opened her arms without thought and Amy burrowed deeply into her chest.

Van wrapped one arm distractedly around her and spoke quickly to Verges. “Come in before anyone sees you.”

He slipped his wide shoulders through the door, having to turn slightly to accomplish it. “I saw the funeral.”

Van knew that was his way of telling her he was sorry for her loss. “I was not going to knock, but I saw you through the window, with your binding off and your hair down.”

Van sucked in a breath. She had no concerns of Verges seeing her. He knew all her secrets, from the fact that she was a woman to the identity and location of all her mistresses. No, she had no concerns about him, but she had been careless. If it had not been Verges, if it had been one of her enemies that had seen her undress all would have been lost.

Van’s concerns slipped from her mind as Amy’s tiny squeak of a voice spat out in outrage. “You saw her almost naked? You were looking through the window?” She spoke with conviction, but would not look directly at him.