The Dark One: Dark Knight by Kathryn Le Veque

bid you good-night, then.”
         He studied her manner, extremely careful
and respectful.  She had the look about her like a frightened doe, which most
people did when confronted with the Dark Knight. He was used to it, immune to
it, but for some reason, he did not want her to look at him like that… look at
him as if he were going to tear her arms from her sockets.
         “Very well,” he flicked his wrist. “Retire,
lady of Mt. Holyoak.”
         The knights watched her back out, far more
respectful than most women.  It was subservient to the point of over-reactive.
         “She is a beauty,” Antonius observed when
she was gone.  “I know Sir Guy Stoneley.  He is an evil bastard on the best of
days and I certainly did not expect that he would have such a beautiful
creature for a wife.”
         Arik stared at the empty doorway a moment
longer, before looking back to his goblet of water.  “See how she acts,
Antonius?  That woman has known nothing but fear her entire life.”
         Antonius shook his head and returned to his
drink.  “Were she mine, she would know nothing but pleasure and happiness.  Ah,
what a damn pity.”
         “Nay, the pity is that she must deal with
that wild sister,” Patrick said. “We shall have to watch that red-head.  If she
is bold enough to play tricks on our first night here, there is no telling what
more she is capable of.”
         “Sleep lightly, lads,” Gaston rumbled,
watching the dance of the fire over the rim of his cup.  “She shall not be
sated until she has humiliated every one of us.”
         “Damnable Yorkist,” Patrick said lowly. “I
shall have her head if she tries anything with me.”
         “She’s not a Yorkist, she’s a pretty young
girl,” Arik said, his lips and face still red.  “I would bet money that she
would not care if this house was loyal to the prince of Persia. Nay, what she
does, she does for revenge on the male sex.”
         Patrick looked at him and smiled broadly.
“I cannot take you seriously, man, when your lips are as red as a court
whore’s.”
         Arik lifted an eyebrow and put his drink to
his lips. “Beware, lad, or I shall kiss you fully.”
         Antonius sat back in his chair with a sigh,
mesmerized by the flames and feeling his fatigue.  “I wonder what it would be
like to kiss Lady Stoneley,” he said. “After all, with her husband in the White
Tower, she must be fairly lonely.”
         “Stay away from Lady Stoneley,” Gaston
said, his voice quiet but unmistakable.  “She is not for you.  Keep your mind
on your profession, Antonius, for I will not hear that you have been making a
fool of yourself after a married woman.”
         Antonius nodded in resignation, but there
was a good-natured smile playing on his lips.  Turning the conversation back to
another subject, he and Patrick became animatedly engaged and forgot all about
Lady Stoneley and her sisters. Even Arik joined in, leaving Gaston brooding
silently over his wine.
         He had not forgotten Lady Stoneley.
     
    ***
     
         Rory was not in her room, nor was she in
any of her other usual places. Remington skirted the perimeter of the entire
castle looking for her sister but had yet to see a sign of her.  She spied Sir
Nicolas entering the castle from the inner bailey alone and her anxiety soared;
had he left Rory for dead somewhere, beaten and mauled?  Knowing Rory, she
would have not made it easy for the knight to punish her and Remington was
terrified for her sister. 
         Quickly, she descended from the southern
tower where she had been searching and made way to the inner bailey in search
of Rory.
         The flame-haired sister wasn’t hard to
find.  She was sniffling and sobbing, carrying on angrily.  Remington heard her
cursing and banging about in a small room in the inner wall turret, talking to
herself furiously.  Oblivious to the light rain that was