The Enchantress of Ingley Ch. 15

Even with a length of sharpened steel between them, her proximity alarmed Hafred. She was close enough he could pick up the faint floral scent she wore, and while her stance was relatively relaxed, he knew that she was just one slight shift in her mercurial temper from flinging lightning and fire at him. He wanted nothing more than to be past her, and up the stairs after Jenrea, yet he couldn't bring himself to needlessly strike down a woman.

At the river, he had nearly done so, but then she had been threatening his lover's life directly. In that great hall, she was merely an obstacle.

Hafred tried to step past her, but Marissa stepped with him, and gently lay one hand upon the naked steel of the sword Garn had given him. His father's sword, reforged and made whole once more, was easily sharp enough to remove that hand. Yet all he could do was let it drop aside.

Marissa stepped past the tapered point as he lowered his blade. Her bare feet padded against the cold stone floor as she neared. The hand which had brushed his sword away instead rose to rest upon his chest, as if she could feel his heartbeat through the mail and padding.

"Hafred." She spoke his name hesitantly, as if she were unsure of her own recollection of it. "Forget her. Stay with me, here. I'm the heir to these lands. Father will no doubt be out of the picture soon enough, however this works out. I could make you a noble. I could please you in ways that Jenrea has never dreamed of." Her deep, jade eyes turned up to his imploringly.

He didn't quite get what her game was. Certainly she was attractive, and richer by far, even if her adoptive father was only a minor noble. But she was spoiled, rotten to the core and terribly temperamental. Perhaps Marissa didn't realize just what Jenrea meant to him, what drew him to her.

"I cannot." He tried to rebuke her as gently as he could. "You are certainly lovely to look at, but I love her. Truly and deeply."

"Are you certain?" Marissa breathed the words across his neck, leaning into him. She pressed the soft curves of her breasts against his mailed chest, and her hand stroked down, trapped between the fine metal rings and the warmth of her own body. Down along his abdomen her fingers traced, then those deft fingers ducked under the low hem of that chain tunic, to press in against the bulge in his leather leggings. "I could do things for you that would make you forget about anyone else. There's no need to fight, just stay with me. Together we could eliminate father, and that twisted bitch he dotes on."

Hafred inhaled sharply. The warm scent of her filled his senses, and his body couldn't help but stir at her touch, at the feel of her pressing in. The excitement of the night's battles had his blood stirring, and she seemed to know just how to stoke those fires. It was only when he heard a cry of rage echo down from the floors above, a female's voice, that he was able to pull himself together. Firmly, he lay one hand upon Marissa's shoulder, and gave her a slight push backward.

Marissa's face twisted with a sudden rage, and her hand began to curl into a claw, before rising up to thrust at his chest. As the scent of lightning tinged the air, Hafred immediately grabbed her wrist with his free hand, and yanked her fingers from his chest.

"You don't have to do this! Jenrea would count you as a friend, I know it!"

His words seemed to have the opposite of his intended effect, for her lips twisted into a fierce scowl. Brilliant arcs of light dazzled his vision as electricity leaped from her fingertips, and then searing pain raced through him. Every muscle along his left side locked tight, and his skin felt as if it were aflame. His armor sparked and heated as well, though the energy danced over the interlocking rings instead of coursing directly through his torso.

Perhaps it was that last phenomena which saved him, for he was still conscious when the current ceased. Marissa stared at him, wide eyed with the shock of his survival. He would have been within his rights to run her through, she had tried to kill him, after all. Instead, he wrenched the wrist he still held, twisting her arm. The young witch cried out in pain, spinning with his handling to relieve the pressure on her joints.

This left her with her back turned to him, her body so close to pressing against his. Half bent over from where he held her arm behind her back, Marissa's shapely rear did graze against him as she struggled in his grasp. Hafred was in far too much pain to pay her much heed. Instead, he merely growled to her, "My quarrel isn't with you, Marissa. I go to retrieve Jenrea from whoever has taken her. But if I must, I will hurt you."

The redhead's struggles stilled, and she leaned back into his body. "Isolde," she finally spoke. "Isolde is the one who took her. She is the one who commanded Rufus, she is the one who enthralled my father. She is the one who ruined my life. Tell me, will you kill her when you face her?"

He wasn't sure how to answer her. The idea that this Isolde woman would have to be confronted sooner or later had been in the back of his mind, but could he bring himself to kill her?

"If she gives me no choice. Regardless, I will be certain that her plans here are ruined, and I will see that she can torment you no more."

Marissa said nothing at first, but finally she bowed her head. "Then I shall trouble you no further."

Accepting her surrender, Hafred released her wrist, and the noblewoman immediately stepped some paces away from him. She turned to face him again, as she rubbed her wrist, but the fire was gone from her eyes. Or at least, that rage which had been directed toward him.

"I still hate her, you know," Her arrogant demeanour returned the instant she was out of danger.

"Hate who, Isolde?" The question was asked before he could stop himself, but rather than wait for her response, he hurried past, toward that sturdy stairway leading up. The last thing he wanted was to stick around until she changed her mind.

"No, Jenrea."

This earned her a glance, just as he reached the base of the steps.

"Why would you hate her? She has tried to help you at every step." His curiosity got the better of him.

A bit of a musing smile tugged at the witch's lips. "Because she's got a good heart, enough to merit a man like you."

Hafred raised both brows at her words, that so echoed those of the bandit queen, but she merely raised one hand. For a moment, he thought she had changed her mind about letting him by, but no fires leapt from her fingertips. Instead, she merely waved him onward.

"Go. You'd best hurry. Isolde will realize she's cornered any moment now. There's no telling what she'll do."

Hafred nodded, and hurried up the steep stairs as well as he could, as his muscles still screamed from Marissa's lightning. He cast one last look down to her, before vanishing into the upper floor of the manor. She looked so alone down there. Perhaps her actions, her attitudes weren't her fault. She had been raised by scum, tormented by an evil woman, and used as a pawn in some sick magical game.

Perhaps Jenrea had been right to pity her.

He hoped that one day she would find peace. But he had his own love to worry about at that moment.