“They said that he is already riding from London.” Charles wiped the back of his hand against his forehead. “Henry knows the strategic power of Holyoak and is sending de Russe to control it. Since we sit in the heart of Yorkshire, what better place to maintain peace in an enemy’s land?”
Remington did not know what to feel. She was wild with relief that her husband was not returning, yet she was filled with terror on another matter altogether. The Dark Knight was coming to Mt. Holyoak.
She had to think this through. Mayhap there was something they could do, although she had no idea what it might be. There was no fighting a man with the devil on his side. Tearing herself away from her train of thought, she turned to the old maid beside her.
“Eudora, take Charles and feed him. He is exhausted,” she said, pulling Charles to the old woman. “I shall speak with you later, Charles, after you have rested.”
Charles barely nodded as Skye followed him and the serving woman inside. Jasmine and Rory took hold of Dane, retreating back into the castle, leaving Remington standing a bit bewildered in the middle of the inner bailey. Her gaze lingered on the innards of the massive structure, her mind workingfuriously.What to do, what to do…?The same answer filled her again and again–there is nothing to do.
“Lady Stoneley?” came an elderly voice. “What are we to do about the Dark One’s arrival?”
Remington turned around and realized that a host of aged male faces were staring at her eagerly– men at arms twice, three times her age, and old Oleg, the steward. She knew they were expecting answers from her, answers she was unable to give.
“Prepare for it,” she said evenly. “Prepare Mt. Holyoak as if my husband was returning. I fear we have no choice but to welcome Henry’s Dark Knight.”
The men looked at each other, grunting with agreement or disagreement, she could not be sure.
“But he is the Dark Knight,” one of the older men-at-arms wailed. “Traitorous bastard, he will surely kill us all. I say we should flee for our lives before he arrives.”
“Flee where, Henry?” Remington said softly, her gaze caressing Mt. Holyoak once more. “We have nowhere to go.”
“Surely you have heard stories of this knight, my lady,” another soldier said solemnly. “He’s spawned from the very loins of Lucifer. He shows no mercy, no compassion, and no emotion. Some say Edward had a sorcerer conjure him up.”
“If he shows no mercy, nor compassion, nor emotion, then it will be very much like my husband has returned,” Remington said with bitterness. “We will simply have to show him great respect and obedience and pray he shows us some benevolence. I know of naught else to do, men; if any of you have suggestions, I am willing to listen.”
The men looked to each other hesitantly, waiting for someone brave enough to speak. Yet it was painfully obvious that no one was willing. Remington sighed, feeling their fear.
“Be courageous, then, and prepare the keep for his arrival,” she said. “I shall not have the Dark Knight entering a shabby keep.”
Disgruntled and bewildered, the men disbanded to do as they were told. Remington took old Oleg’s arm and together they walked for the castle.
“What are we to do, my lady?” Oleg asked. “Having the Dark One here will be far worse than Sir Guy.”
Remington’s mouth tightened into a thin line. “Somehow I doubt that. I have lived in hell for nine years, Oleg, and cannot imagine this man will make my life any worse.”
“You seem too willing to be complacent,” Oleg commented. “I know for a fact you have much more fight in you than you are showing.”
Remington shrugged. “What good will it do? I could, conceivably, evacuate the castle. But to where? And for how long? Meanwhile, our people will starve and with winter approaching, they would most likely freeze to death. Nay, Oleg, I am convinced that there is no use to run and hide. We would escape right into our own deaths.”
The old man bobbed his head in reluctant agreement. “So we do nothing but prepare the keep for the man like a god returned?”
Remington paused at the entrance to the keep, facing the frail old man who ran the castle so beautifully. “I am afraid so, Oleg,” she sighed. “I would not want to tweak the nose of the most feared knight in all of England.”
Oleg lifted his eyebrows in resignation. “I fear for our future, my lady. I have heard tales of this Dark One. Some say he is a stone statue come to night, only to be resurrected by the light of dawn.”
“Unless the man flies into the bailey with the wings of a bat, I shall not give in to fear,” Remington smiled, trying to alleviatethe tension. “If he pulls a pitchfork from ’neath his cloak, or sprouts a speared tail, then I shall be a-feared. Otherwise, he is just a man like all others.”
Oleg shook his head with apprehension. “God save us all.”
Remington took his arm again. “We have much to accomplish, you and I. ’Tis best we get started.”
“As you say, my lady,” Oleg mumbled as they disappeared into the damp, cool innards of the castle. “Your will shall be done.”
He did not sound as if he meant it.
CHAPTER TWO
He wasn’t merelybig; he was monstrous. He wasn’t simply dark in color, but dark to the very bone. Descended from the Normans on his father’s side granted him that inheritance, but his mother was Welsh and he bore the dark gray eyes of the Welsh. To look at him was to look into the darkness that was in every man.
