Dark Destroyer (5 page)

Her question confused him even more. “Why should I?”

“Because I have asked this of you,” she said, forcing her bravery. “You told me that I need not be afraid. If you want me to trust your word, then tell me his name.”

It was rather demanding but he almost found it amusing. Here she was, pinned beneath him, and in spite of her obvious fear, she was still prepared to make demands. He saw no harm in answering her.

“Jasper de Lara.”

The woman seemed to ease somewhat; he could feel her body relax beneath him, which would have been quite arousing under different circumstances.

“Aye, it is,” she finally said.

“And how do you know?”

“Because I am his daughter.”

Gates wasn’t even aware that his jaw dropped.
I am his daughter
. God’s Bones, was it even possible that in the great labyrinth of the cloister, he happened upon the one thing he was actually looking for? He could hardly believe his fortune.

When he and his men had ridden up to the priory swarming with Welsh, he truly hadn’t known if he’d find any female flesh still intact much less the exact lady he was looking for. But here she was and evidently unharmed. Still… as he gazed at the woman, a more selfish thought crossed his mind -  was it actually possible that old Jasper de Lara bred such fineness out of his fat, worn body and this glorious creature was actually a de Lara? The mere thought boggled the mind.

But the fact remained that identity had been established. Without any reason to keep her pinned, Gates let go of the woman and climbed off of her.

“Lady Kathalin, I presume?”

Lady Kathalin Elizabeth du Bois de Lara slowly pushed herself up from the hard-packed earth, rubbing her elbow where she had bruised it when the big knight had flipped her onto her back.

“Aye,” she said. “Did my father send you with a message?”

Gates reached down to help her, assisting the woman to her feet, inspecting her closely as she stood up. She was somewhat tall for a woman, and rather slender, but now that he was seeing her in full view, he realized that he’d never seen such magnificence. He was quite in awe of her, struggling to keep his composure at the surprise of the entire situation.

“I will tell you why I have come, but first you will tell me something,” he said. “Were you injured in the raid? Are you sound and whole?”

Kathalin nodded. “I am well,” she said, unwilling to mention the bruised elbow she was still rubbing. “They did not hurt me but it would seem that you arrived just in time.”

As the volatile situation between them eased, Gates unlatched his helm and pushed it up off of his face so that the bottom of it rested on his forehead. He wiped at his sweaty, stubbled face.

“I would agree with that statement,” he said. “But what about the garrison at Ludlow Castle? They are not far away. Why did you not send word to them?”

Kathalin shook her head. “It is possible that word was sent,” she said. “I would not know. I have been in the kitchen since the assault began, trying to prevent the Welsh from stealing our food stores.”

That made some sense to Gates as he scratched at his neck. “I see,” he said. “I have heard of the Welsh raiding villages, but to raid a priory is bold even for them. How long have they been here?”

Kathalin shook her head, eyeing the very big knight. He had hazel-gold eyes, dark hair from what she could see of it tucked underneath his helm, and a granite-square jaw with a pronounced cleft in his chin. He was tall, too – quite tall, with shoulders nearly as wide as the door frame. And the hands he lifted to wipe his face were the size of trenchers. She’d never seen so handsome, nor so big, a man at close range and she had to admit that it was both frightening and strangely alluring. But she would never admit the last part, of course. Future nuns were not to be enticed by men, but if they were, this one might fit that bill.

Her heart fluttered a bit, giddy.

“Not long,” she replied belatedly to his question. “Mayhap less than an hour before you fortuitously arrived. You said that my father sent you? Do you come with a message?”

She was asking the question again, the one he’d failed to answer the first time. Gates finished scratching his face and neck, pulling his helm down over his head again.

“The message I bring is that your father wants you returned home, Lady Kathalin,” he said, finding some pleasure in that statement because it would mean escorting the woman, and staying close to her, for the return journey. “Your mother and father have recalled you to be with them.”

Kathalin’s brow furrowed in confusion. “Why?”

Gates shrugged. “This, I would not know,” he said, eyeing her, and in particular, her clothing. “You said that you were not a sister?”

Kathalin shook her head. “Not yet,” she said. “The Mother Prioress sent my father a missive back in the summer asking his permission but my father has not yet answered. That is why I thought you had come bearing a message from him, an answer to the Mother Prioress’ query. But instead, he sends you to bring me back to Trelystan?”

Gates nodded. “Your parents are wintering at Hyssington Castle, my lady,” he said, addressing her properly now that he knew, much to his relief, that she was not yet a nun. “If you will gather your possessions, we must return immediately.”

Kathalin’s furrowed brow turned into a full-blown frown. “Why?” she asked, exasperation in her tone. “This is my home, Sir Knight. I do not wish to return to my parents.”

Gates hoped he wasn’t going to have a problem with her. The last thing he wanted to do was carry her, kicking and screaming, out of the priory in his quest to carry out his orders.

“You will forgive me, my lady, for suggesting that your concerns are something you must discuss with your father,” he said. “I am only the messenger. I have my orders and I would ask politely that you help me to complete them.”

Kathalin eyed the enormous man, her first reaction one of refusal. However, she suspected that refusal would not be well met and she didn’t want to find herself bound and gagged, thrown across the back of his horse for transport to her family's home. Although Gates de Wolfe seemed polite and had not been aggressive towards her even when she was beating him in the head with her pot, she was fairly certain that she didn’t want to provoke him. It would not end well, for either one of them. Therefore, she took a step back from him, away from arm’s reach.

“But I do not want to go,” she said quietly. “I appreciate that you have your orders, but I do not want to go. This is where I live. I manage the kitchens and every day, I teach some of the children in the village the good words from the Holy Scripture. My entire life is here and I hope you can understand that I do not wish to answer a summons by my father, who is a stranger to me. He is my father in name only.”

Gates could see that she was trying to reason with him but the fact remained that he had his orders. “My lady, I can appreciate your position,” he said patiently, “but this is something you must discuss with your father. I cannot make any decision for or against you. You must come with me and after discussing these things with your father, it is up to him whether or not he will permit you to return.”

Kathalin pondered his response. She was terrified that if she allowed him to take her home, her father might not ever let her return to St. Milburga’s. She had no idea why the man was summoning her after fourteen years of virtual silence; it was the first such summons in all of that time. She had lived at St. Milburga’s quite happily since leaving her parents, people who were ghosts to her. She forgot she even had parents most of the time because they had made it clear they had no use for their only daughter. At least, they had no use up until now. But something had prompted her father to call her home and she didn’t like it one bit. Uncertainty made her very apprehensive.

I do not want to leave my home!

“But why?” she finally asked, feeling tears sting her eyes. “Why does he want me to come home?”

Even though Gates knew why, he wasn’t sure how much to tell her. Still, he felt as if he should tell her something. He could see that she was quite upset by the unexpected summons.

“It is my understanding that your mother wants you to come home,” he said quietly. Then, he gestured towards the door. “If you please, my lady? I should like to leave as soon as possible.”

Kathalin sighed heavily, turning away from him, despondent. “My mother,” she repeated, disgust in her tone. “I have not seen my mother in fourteen years, Sir Knight. I do not even know her. Do you know what my last memory of her is? When she screamed at me for something, something I do not even recall, and then she slapped me across the mouth. The next day, I was bundled up and sent away with two soldiers for escort, one of which kept pinching my… well, suffice it to say he pinched something he should not have. Dear God, I was only five years old at the time. What kind of man would do that? And what kind of mother would send her child away like that?”

Gates was listening to her with some sympathy. But he was mostly watching her delicious backside when she turned away from him, a shapely back that flared into hips that disappeared beneath layers of brown wool. He found himself wondering what she looked like underneath all of that fabric but when she finished her impassioned speech and turned to him, expecting an answer, he was caught daydreaming about her shapely behind. Embarrassed, he cleared his throat, trying to cover his blunder.

“My lady, I cannot pretend to know your mother’s mind,” he said. “All I know is that I was ordered to bring you to your parents. Will you please come with me?”

Kathalin was hoping for a bit more compassion from the man. “And if I refuse?”

Gates met her intense gaze with intensity of his own. “I hope you will not.”

“If I do?”

“Then I have been ordered to bring you home by any means necessary.”

So he revealed his true determination that she should come with him. She smiled thinly. “Then all of this politeness from you was a ruse,” she said. “You are going to take me whether or not I comply with your requests. Why not tell me that from the start?”

“Because I was hoping I would not have to.”

Kathalin opened her mouth to reply when a Welsh raider, evidently fleeing English pursuers, suddenly bolted in through the door. Kathalin screamed at the sight of him and Gates, spurred by her scream, acted on his training; quick as a flash, he threw his big shoulder against the door, slamming the Welshman between the door jamb and the door panel, hitting him so hard that the Welshman hit his head on the door itself. It was enough to stun him so that the two English soldiers chasing him were able to grab the man and haul him, dazed, away.

Kathalin stood there, hand to her mouth in fright, as Gates watched his soldiers drag the man off. He also passed a practiced eye over The Garth, noting that nearly all of the Welsh had been commanded to sit on the muddy ground whilst his men corralled them. Stephan, astride his big, red war horse, was ordering the wounded gathered in one spot. After several moments of watching the activity, Gates finally returned his attention to Kathalin.

“Well, my lady?” he asked. “Will you come peacefully or will you and I have to slug it out? The choice is yours.”

Shaken by the abrupt appearance of the errant Welshman, Kathalin struggled to appear as if she wasn’t shaken in the least. But it was more than that; when de Wolfe had charged the door and thrown his weight against it to disable the man, she could see in that brief moment exactly how powerful the knight was. He was unstoppable, as strong as a bull, and she could only imagine his skill with a blade was equal. He was not one to be trifled with and her fear of him made a return.

It was strength that could be turned against her.

Still, it didn’t lessen her determination not to go with him. She had been unable to reason her way out of it and it was obvious he had no compassion about her position. He would essentially be dragging her out of her home, taking her to strangers who had control over her life. Strangers who had discarded her at a very young age. Knowing reason or brute strength would be no good against the knight, she had to be more clever than he was. A battle of wits was her last defense against him.

She had to try because, Sweet Jesus, she truly did not wish to leave St. Milburga’s.

She didn’t want to go.

“I wish to speak with the Mother Prioress,” she said. “Is that too much to ask?”

Gates shook his head. “Not at all, my lady,” he said, smiling to give her a glimpse of those de Wolfe dimples. It was a calculated move on his part, hoping to dazzle her a bit. “You and I will go and find her together, although I cannot imagine where she would be in the midst of this mess. Do you have any thoughts on the matter?”

Kathalin wasn’t particularly moved by the dimples, although it made the handsome man ever more handsome. She was too caught up in her own turmoil to appreciate the glorious gesture. Moreover, she wasn’t sure where the Prioress was but she intended to hunt the woman down. There was a very specific question she wanted to ask her, the woman who had been more of a mother to her than her own ever was. She wasn’t going to leave without seeing the woman one last time and pleading for her intervention. At this point, it was Kathalin’s last hope.

Will you offer me sanctuary, Mother Benedicta, so I may remain at St. Milburga’s?