Joanna Davis - Knights In Shining Armor

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Authors: Haven; Taken By The Soldier

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Haven

By

Joanna Davis

Copyright © 2014 by Joanna Davis

 

All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof

may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever

without the express written permission of the publisher

except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

Printed in the United States of America

First Printing, 2014

Pincushion Press

http://pincushionpress.tumblr.com/

For Han

Chapters

Prologue

One

Two

Three

Four

Five

Six

Seven

Eight

Nine

Ten

Eleven

Epilogue

Prologue

 

1329

             

              Running.

              The girl was running blindly through the dark woods. All she could see or sense were the vague shadows of the trees immediately in front of her. Behind her, someone was calling her name.

              She was exhausted, having been on her feet for the better part of a day without food or drink. Going home would mean that she could rest at last. Maybe they'd even give her something to eat before her punishment began. She nearly gave in and let them catch her at the thought. What relief it would be to just give in and go back. To let them lift her up and carry her home.

              Home.

              The word was foul to her now. Less than a year ago she would have gladly run back to her home. In fact, she never would have left. But that place no longer existed.

              She shrieked as strong arms closed around her and a man's voice spoke softly in her ear.

              "There now my lady. Where do you think you are going?"

 

One

 

Five years later

 

              Rowan stared up at the fortress above him. The high stone walls were well kept. The gate strong. No man would gain entry without invitation.

             
Good.

              Beyond the walls stood a castle that was nearly 200 year old. A high tower provided a unparalleled place to keep watch and the parapets would be easily guarded by soldiers. The smooth gray stone soared gracefully into the sky. Fairhaven was rich with history and like the wall, had withstood the test of time.

              It was a fine castle. And it was his by order of the King.

              The inhabitants just didn't know it yet.

              Like his father and grandfather before him, Edward III intended to subdue to Scottish people. The placement of Fairhaven made it an ideal location from which to keep a firm eye on the Scotts and the vulnerable Eastern Coast. During Edward's campaign against Scotland, Rowan had made himself indispensable to the young King. Now Rowan was the one Edward trusted to oversee the region while the King was readying for war with France.

              Plus there was that other matter that the King intended to reward him with…

             
Emeline.

              A guard peered out over the top of the gate at Rowan and his men.

              "And what might your business be?"

              Kenneth looked to Rowan. He nodded, given his second in command permission to speak on his behalf.

              "This is Captain Hawthorne. The King has made him warden of this provence and awarded him the title Lord Of Fairhaven and castle herein. You will address him as Lord Fairhaven."

              The guard stared down at him, non plussed. Clearly they were not expecting him. He had assumed some notice had been sent ahead to the lady of the house at least. Rowan frowned. Was
she
going to be as surprised by his arrival?

              The guard disappeared without a word, causing Rowan's men to roll their eyes. Battle hardened men, they were unaccustomed to waiting for anything. They simply took it. Unless of course, he ordered them not to. He had earned their unwavering loyalty time and again. They liked to win, and he had an uncanny knack for victory. Not to mention keeping them alive.

              Rowan looked through his visor at the castle, feeling his blood surge. It was nearly time to collect his reward for his unwavering service to the Crown. He'd started as the lowest of foot soldiers under Edward II's reign. Only through dint of hard work and a remarkable talent with the sword had he risen far enough to grasp what had eluded him so many years before.

             
She
was inside there somewhere.

              Emeline had been iressistable to him once. All flashing green eyes and dark silky hair. Her curvaceous figure had caused far more mature and disciplined soldiers to loose their step while marching. But if they caught a glimpse of that face, with her high round cheeks, sweetly upturned nose and cupids bow mouth… they'd been lost. Add to that a sparkling wit and unquenchable zest for life and she was incomparable to other women. As a green boy, he'd hardly stood a chance.

              He wondered idly what she looked like now. It had been a long time since he'd seen her last. Much had happened. He'd risen among the ranks of the King's soldiers at an astounding speed. And she'd been here. With him.

              Her husband.

              Five years of marriage. Marriage to another man. A richer man. She'd cavalierly promised herself to a foolish young soldier and then betrayed him without a moment's hesitation when a better offer had come along. Now the tables were turned and she was at
his
mercy. The irony wasn't lost on him. He didn't plan on making things easy for her. She would reap what she had sowed, and then some.

              Through an incredible twist of fate, Rowan Hawthorne, the boy she'd cast aside without a backward glance, was now her lord and master. He owned everything that had once been her husbands, and following the old Lord Fairhaven's death, was briefly hers. It made his lips twitch a bit, thinking about having her under his thumb.

              Fate was a cruel mistress, especially for a woman such as she with no one to champion her.

              He smiled grimly at he thought.

              The wheel had turned.

 

 

 

**********

 

 

              Emeline stared down at the men outside. She chewed her lip thoughtfully, twisting her necklace in her hand before pulling her hood lower to conceal her face. It was always better to hide her face when meeting strangers.

              "Hawthorne, did you say?"

              Bran nodded. He'd come to fetch her and Peter, the master of the guards. The few guards they had left anyway.

              "They come from the King?"

              "Aye, my lady."

              She sighed. The force outside the gate was formidable. The interlopers couldn't know it, but there were only a handful of men left on the grounds. They had enough food to last them a week or so, but no more. There really wasn't anything to discus. Capitulation was the safest course for the people inside the castle walls.

              "Tell them that we will open the gate on one condition."

              "But my lady-"

              "Do it please Bran."

              He sighed heavily, looking to Peter who raised an eyebrow. They were very protective of her she knew. But it was ultimately
her
responsibility to be protective of
them
.

              "My lady has agreed to open the gate on one condition."

              Below them, their leader was growing weary of waiting. He stepped forward- cutting off the other soldier before he could speak.

              "What is this condition?"

              Emeline stepped forward and into arrow range, much to her guards consternation.

              "That none of my people will be harmed."

              "
Your
people?"

              She frowned at the gravelly voice. It dripped sarcasm and contempt. And yet it sent a tingle of recognition shooting down her spine. She squared her shoulders.

              "That none of the people of
this castle
be harmed."

              "Agreed."

              "And that none of your soldiers force their-"

              She paused, searching for a word, any word, that might make this less humiliating.

              "Um… attentions! On any of the female servants!"

              She stared at the man below her. He was utterly still. She wished she could see his face. It was difficult to gauge his intentions but she prayed that he could be trusted to keep his word. She didn't have much choice in the matter. Any more stalling would be to gainsay the King and considered treasonous. A sudden shiver went through her body. There was something familiar about his voice… and the name… but it couldn't be.

              He nodded curtly.

              "No one will be harmed."

              She nodded solemnly as if making a great oath.

              "Open the gate."

 

 

 

**********

 

 

 

 

              Rowan felt his horse side step impatiently. Goliath had clearly caught his masters energy. He was ready to get on with his long awaited revenge.

             
She
was here after all. He'd been almost afraid that what the King had promised him would not come to fruition. It had seemed almost too good to be true.

              She'd worn a cloak when she stood on the wall above so he hadn't been able to get a good look at her. But there was no mistaking that voice. So certain of herself, of her beauty, her place in the world. But also melodious, dulcet, like the voice of the most cultured courtesan.

             
And brave.

              To ask what she had asked of him on her people's behalf… from such a tenuous position… he had to admit it required tremendous courage. He could not help but notice she had asked nothing for herself. That was good, because he was a man of his word and would not have promised her anything in that regard.

              Except retribution.

              In just a moment he would face her. He'd be proud and aloof and immune to her tears. He was certain that she would beg him for favors, kindness, to take her back into his heart… She was going to be disappointed in that regard.

              He restrained the urge to barge down the gate as it slowly opened.

 

 

 

**********

 

 

 

 

 

              Inside the castle was a flurry of activity as the remaining household gathered with Emeline in the great hall. There were few servants about, most having snuck out of the castle under her orders at the first sign of the large party on the roads. They'd calmly walked en masse through the tunnel to the sea. Only old Magda and Leidel the cook had stayed with their lady and the two guards.

              Emeline closed her eyes and waited. She forced herself to be still and calm, no matter what transpired. The next few minutes would determine not only what would happen to her, but to everyone who called Fairhaven home. Their futures could be hearty or bleak for generations to come. She was the lady, the people relied on her to negotiate on their behalf. She was toying nervously with the chain around her throat when the doors slammed open.

              A man walked forward, followed closely by his soldiers. His physique was that of a seasoned warrior, thickly muscled and ramrod straight. His bearing reeked of authority. She could see little more about him then that. He wore a full set of highly polished armor and the top of his face was covered with a visor, concealing his eyes. Their metal spurs clanged jarringly against the floor stones as they grew closer.

              "We bid you welcome, Lord Fairhaven."

              Emeline dipped into a graceful curtsy. She rose slowly, feeling even more unsteady on her feet. The man simply stood there, watching her as if she were a fish with wings. She swallowed a nervous laugh. Whatever was she thinking?

              Finally he moved, lifting his visor from his head and resting it on the long trestle. He turned back toward her and all the blood rushed from her head to her heart. Her mouth opened and she spoke his name without thought.

              "Rowan..."

              It was him. She'd thought of him for a moment outside, by the gate… but she'd squashed that hope, thinking it her imagination. But he was here. After all this time...

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