Lord of War: Black Angel (19 page)

  Dylan simply nodded his head, his mouth too full and his mind too weary to think on any more than evening.  As a tense silence settled, le Bec entered the conversation.

“My lord?” he said. “Is your lady wife well? She seemed rather fatigued when we arrived earlier. I am sorry she was not able to join us for sup.”

Brandt set his cup down, exhaling wearily. “She is well; simply exhausted,” he replied, his thoughts turning to his wife. “She went upstairs, fell on the bed, and went straight to sleep. I should go and check on her.  Perhaps she is awake and will join us now.”

He stood up, feeling every inch of his exhaustion, as Dylan muttered.  “Or perhaps you should simply stay in the room with her,” he said, mouth full. “You are a bride groom, after all. Why would you wish to share your wife with us on this night?”

As the knights snickered, Brandt actually grinned.  He slapped Dylan on the shoulder as he walked past him and lumbered up the uneven stairs.

The corridor was dim, the only light from the common room down below seeping up through the floorboards.  Brandt headed for the room at the far end of the hall, the one farthest from the inn’s main chamber.  He had tried to find a quiet spot for Ellowyn, something rather difficult in a packed inn, but as he inserted the crude key into the equally crude iron lock, he opened the door to a darkened and quiet chamber.  It seemed worlds away from the quagmire downstairs.

It was a long and skinny chamber that stretched all down the side of the structure with a big window that overlooked the stable yard below. He could smell the animals wafting through the oilcloth. The bed, barely big enough for two, was shoved against the far wall with the foot of it close to the small fireplace, now laying low and glowing with a mixture of peat and wood.

As he made his way quietly over to the bed, he realized there was noise coming from the darkened corner.  He could hear sniffles and sobbing. It took him a moment to realize that Ellowyn was weeping.

Brandt sank down on to the mattress, full of concern. “Wynny?” he asked softly. “Why do you weep, sweetheart?”

Ellowyn wiped furiously at her face. “It… it is of no worry” she whispered. “I suppose… it has been a long day. I am simply fatigued.”

Brandt’s brow furrowed as he stroked her dark hair. “But you were fine when I left you earlier,” he insisted quietly. “You were dead asleep. Why are you crying now?”

The fact that he was pressing her on her the reasons behind her tears made her weep more. “I… I will not see my father or mother again,” she sobbed. “I miss them already.”

He sighed heavily; he wasn’t about to remind her that he had warned her of such a thing.  Now was not the time.  He stroked her head again and kissed her forehead.

“Aye, you will,” he assured her. “They will not stay angry with us for long, especially when their grandchildren come along. That will make them forget everything.”

Ellowyn wasn’t entirely convinced but she nodded anyway, wiping at her nose. “Mayhap,” she said. “But I miss them just the same. And… and I had a dream.”

He bent over her so that he was nearly laying on her, stroking her silken hair and kissing her cheek.

“What dream, sweet?”

She gazed up at him, shadows on her face as her tears glistened in the weak firelight. “I do not exactly know,” she murmured, her tears lessening. “I have had the same dream for a while now.  Sometimes I have dreams that come true and this one scares me.”

He smiled faintly. “Are you a prophetess, then?”

She nodded seriously even though he had meant it in jest. “Since I was young, I have had dreams that sometimes come true,” she said. “I dreamt that my brother would no longer be a knight but no one believed me, and then he left for the cloister. I also dreamt my grandfather was ill well before he told anyone.  I have dreamt of other things, as well, that have come to pass.”

He cocked an eyebrow. “You did not tell me you were an oracle. Perhaps I can use you to my advantage.”

She grinned weakly because he was, wiping away the last of her tears. “I cannot divine your warring future,” she told him. “But… but this dream. It
is
about war. There is a castle with a big keep and it is raining heavily. The castle is on fire and there are bodies strewn everywhere. I am walking through the mud and rain searching for my love but I do not know who he is nor can I find him. I am so terribly frightened and it is then I realize I am with child. I walk through this mud and blood, my hands on my swollen belly, looking for… someone. It is a horrible dream.”

Brandt took absolutely no stock in prophetic dreams. He was a logical man and knew there was an explanation for everything. Moreover, the mind could do strange things when weary or frightened. He had experienced it for himself. He stroked her head again and kissed her cheek.

“Now I am here and I will chase these evil dreams from your mind,” he said softly. “I will bring you comfort where you have had none before.  Once you feel safe and cherished, this dream will stop. Do you feel like eating something now? Perhaps some food will help chase your nightmares away.”

Ellowyn sighed wearily. “I am not hungry,” she told him. “I simply want to sleep.”

He didn’t push her. “As you wish,” he kissed her cheek again. “As your husband, may I join you?”

She smiled, a genuine gesture. “I was hoping you would.”

Brandt didn’t need any further prompting or conversation.  He stood up from the bed and began pulling off pieces of armor and his mail.  When he had it all gathered up, he sent a servant for his squires, who came on the run. There were two of them, big strapping lads, and they carried away the duke’s expensive protection to clean it and have it ready for him in the morning.  

When the young men fled, Brandt pulled of his tunic and sat down on the bed to remove his boots.  He found that he was very eager to get into bed with his new wife, reminding himself that he had to take it slowly with her.  She was sweet, sensuous and delicious, but she was also very virginal. He didn’t want to frighten or hurt her, although he knew the latter was inevitable as an untouched bride. He found that he was actually shaking with anticipation as he slipped his leather breeches off and, in the darkness of the room, climbed into the narrow bed next to her. But the moment he went to pull her into his arms, she snored and sighed.  It was so dark in the room that he had to get right up to her face to see that she had fallen back asleep.

He sighed faintly, feeling a good deal of disappointment.  Then, he chuckled at the irony of the situation.  He lay down quietly next to her, folding a big arm under his head and just watching her.  The firelight was very faint but he could still see her features in the glow. She was such an exquisite creature. He was still having difficulty believing that she belonged to him now because the events of the past day, not to mention the past week, had been overwhelmingly swift.  He felt like he was still trying to catch up with all that had happened.

Reaching out with his free hand, he gently touched her hair, her forehead. Then he touched her neck and shoulder and wound back up to her head again. She had such lovely hair.  She stirred a bit but didn’t waken. 

Lifting a rather devious eyebrow, Brandt shook the bed a bit.  She didn’t stir. He wriggled harder, enough to move her fairly significantly, and she stirred again but she didn’t awaken.  Then, he bounced around like a fool two or three times, enough to jolt her out of a deep sleep.  As big a man as he was, he nearly flipped her right out of bed. He lay there innocently as she sat up and rubbed her eyes.

“Did I wake you?” he asked, feigning concern. “I am sorry, sweetheart. Go back to sleep.”

Ellowyn yawned, still rubbing her eyes before looking at him. “You did not wake me,” she muttered, lying down because he was pulling her down next to him. “I was already awake.”

She yawned again as he tucked her in next to his heated, naked body. “You should be asleep,” he said, kissing the top of her head, “even if it
is
our wedding night.”

Ellowyn didn’t say anything.  She simply snuggled against him, trying to find her comfort zone. But then, her eyes opened and she realized she was staring at his chest. His
naked
chest. More than that, she was in his arms, lying with him for the very first time.  The contentment was unimaginable. His words began to sink in and her first instinct was to pull away from him, uncertain and a little frightened. But with those same emotions came feelings of excitement and joy such as she had never known.

Peering down under the covers without really moving her head, she could see he was completely nude; she could see his bare thighs and belly, but the shadows and darkness prevented her from seeing anything more.  She knew what he meant by it being their wedding night. He meant doing what all married couples do.  He had come prepared. She had not.

Lifting her head, she looked into his handsome face. “I will stay awake,” she said. “I am your wife, after all. It seems so strange to say that, does it not?”

She was giggling and he smiled. “I have never heard a more beautiful thing in my life,” he said softly, stroking her cheek. “I never thought I would have a wife again and particularly not one I was fond of, so this is quite a miraculous event.”

Ellowyn reached up, stroking his cheeks that were rough with stubble. “I have married the Duke of Exeter,” she whispered. “It is only a title to me. I married Brandt de Russe, someone who has come to mean so very much to me. I would have married you had you been the lowliest pauper.”

He kissed her fingers as they came near his lips. “Fortunately, I am not,” he murmured. “I am the Duke of Exeter, Lord of the Western Gates, Baron Guildford and Waverley.  You are now the Duchess of Exeter and Lady Guildford.  If we have a son, then the hereditary title of Earl of Weston will pass to him.  There are a dozen other titles that go with my dukedom so our children will be well titled and propertied. Most of Devon and parts of Surrey belongs to me, my lady.  We shall build quite a legacy.”

Ellowyn smiled faintly. “I only care that I belong to you.”

He smiled in return, pulling her close against his warm, nude chest.  She felt unbelievably delicious in his arms.  His mind was screaming at him to take it slowly with her but his body wasn’t particularly listening. He wanted her now, and he wanted all of her.  He was a man who always got what he wanted.

“You belong to me,” he whispered, kissing her forehead, her eyelids. “You, and everything about you, belong to me.”

“I am so glad.”

“As am I.”

His seeking lips found her warm mouth, kissing her gently at first, but with increasing passion. Ellowyn was quickly becoming adept at returning his kisses but little more beyond that; she had no idea what ‘more’ there really was.  Yet she was responsive and mimicked him when he snaked his tongue into her mouth to taste her deeply; however, when he rolled on top of her, trapping her, she felt a little overwhelmed.  All of this was so new and wonderful, but it was also frightening. He was such a big and powerful man. Brandt was taking charge and she had little choice but to let him.

Ellowyn was still wearing the surcoat she had fled Erith in, a durable broadcloth of deep blue. It was also complicated and she was fastened and tied into it, and Brandt didn’t have a lot of patience for it.  He snapped a strap on her waist but Ellowyn stopped him before he could rip it to shreds.

“This is all I have,” she whispered, pulling away from his seeking mouth and putting a hand over his to top it. “If you ruin it, I shall have nothing to wear.”

He backed off as a chivalrous man would and lay back on the pillow, watching her as she climbed out of bed and began unfastening the dress.  Even though it was dim in the room, when it came time for her to finally begin removing the pieces, he turned his head and stared up at the ceiling to allow her some privacy.  He wanted nothing more than to watch her strip to the skin, but he thought perhaps it might embarrass her too much.  He was trying very hard to think of her comfort and not of his lust.

He could hear the fabric falling to the floor and then she was in bed again, swiftly pulling the covers up to her neck.  By the time he turned to look at her, the covers were up so high that even her ears were covered.  All he could see was the top of her head and her face.  She looked as if she was swaddled and he struggled not to smile.

Propping himself up on an elbow, he loomed over her in the dim light.  Ellowyn gazed back at him with a mixture of curiosity, excitement, and apprehension.  He let his smile break through as he began to very gently peel back the coverlet, kissing every inch of flesh he uncovered.  She seemed fine with his attention, relaxing even, until he began to peel it away from her breasts.  Then she tensed up but Brandt wouldn’t have it; he tugged firmly, steadily, as she tried to hold the coverlet, all the while kissing the bits of skin that were being revealed.  Eventually, he managed to uncover her left breast completely and when she moved to yank the coverlet up to recover it, he tugged hard enough to pull the entire coverlet completely off of her body.

Ellowyn shrieked softly with surprise, and perhaps some fear, as Brandt covered her up with his big body and latched hungrily to a nipple.  He was heated and virile and overwhelming, and Ellowyn was rather stunned by his onslaught.  She’d truly had no idea what to expect on their wedding night, virginal and lacking any knowledge whatsoever, so she couldn’t do much more than lay there and experience what he was doing to her.  Truth be told, she was embarrassed that she was naked and he was touching very personal parts of her body.  But she was also very interested.  As he fondled and nursed at her breasts, bolts of excitement coursed through her.

Brandt remained with her breasts for a good long time, acquainting her with his touch.  He was also very much acquainting himself with the feel and taste of her, and it was more than he could have imagined.  He’d never known anything so sweet.  The problem was that he was not a man of supremely great control; if he wanted it, he got it, and if he gave a command, it was fulfilled. He’d never had to practice great restraint.  Therefore, as Ellowyn squirmed beneath him with awakening desire, Brandt’s senses were overwhelmed. He had something in his grasp that he very much wanted to take.  Therefore, he did.