The Little Warrior Ch. 5

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Cassie & Byron learn some new things.
3.7k words
4.51
14.8k
2

Part 5 of the 5 part series

Updated 10/31/2022
Created 08/13/2001
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Cassie was angry. Not just angry, but she was livid. She didn't sleep for the rest of the night, being up with Julia. Julia, her friend, her servant, her savior.

Julia held Cassie's hand after Anen left to deal with the prisoner. Murdering prick, Cassie thought. Julia was drugged up with some herbs to help the pain ease and sleep to overcome her, but she still suffered nightmares. Understandable, thought Cassie.

Julia moaned in her sleep, continued to be restless. Cassie wondered what her betrothed was doing, and what the future held for her brother-in-law-to-be. She despised the man. Sinclaire, a powerful nobleman in her country, did the only thing that he could have done to raise the ire of his sovereign king. He tried to rape and beat his daughter to a bloody pulp. The only problem was that he got the wrong girl. His future sister-in-law wasn't in her own bed. Her lady in waiting, however, was.

When King Lance heard his daughter's plea for a trusted man's head, and then saw why, he quickly took action. He sent the unconscious man to the dungeon. Ordered the worst room possible for him. He didn't care if the guards took out their anger of his brutality on him. He rather enjoyed that they felt that way.

King Lance rested his weary head on his arms. He was exhausted, not from the lack of sleep. He rarely slept much anymore. He was emotionally exhausted from what he had seen. His daughter's best friend was brutally attacked, and the perpetrator thought that his own daughter, Princess Cassandra, was the victim. His gut felt like a knife was wrenching through it, turning until his insides were as jelly.

HOW could he have trusted this man?? He asked himself for the thousandth time. He pounded his head on the table.

"Your majesty?"

"Yes, what is it?" he sighed, rubbing his temples.

"Lord Sinclaire has revived, do you wish to question him?"

"Oh yes, I most certainly do."

"Follow me, please." Lance followed the guard down into he cold and damp dungeon. This wasn't his first trip down these winding stairs, but he knew that it was the most difficult. How many other men he had to sentence to death? How many others were men he had considered to be a friend, a trusted subject? How many times had he been utterly wrong?

He was wrong this one time so far. Sinclaire had destroyed a part of him as he watched Tristan sew up the gash in Julia's arm. His rage barely contained. Women have no place in battle plans or politics, he thought, but they should also be treated with decorum.

Reaching a cell that was guarded and locked, Lance ordered it to be opened for his entrance. Once inside, he smelled the dank smell of earth, rotted vegetation, urine, feces, and sweat. The smell almost gagged him. It was fitting for this man who dared to threaten and attack a royal member of his very own flesh and blood. His baby was in danger, and this man caused it. Lance was a very angry man, albeit controlled.

"I see that you are awake."

"I see that I am a prisoner in your dungeon. When do you plan on letting me out of here?"

"Very soon. Sunrise."

"Sunrise? That is when you usually take out the prisoners sentenced to death."

"I know."

"Since when did I deserve to be beheaded? I thought that we were on the same side."

"We were until you tried to rape and beat my daughter. Your very own princess. The woman that you picked for your younger brother!"

"I never touched your daughter. Your daughter was whoring around the castle. Your precious child is nothing more than a slut!" Sinclaire spat at Lance.

"My daughter was with her betrothed, her future husband. But that isn't the point. You believed that you were doing those things to my daughter. The intent is clear. The fact that you raped the wrong girl means nothing. Your true intentions were obvious. As is your future, or what there is that is left to it. When Cassie asked me to take your head, I was shocked. She has never asked for anything like that, and never so vehemently, either. When I saw that she was fine, I couldn't figure out why she was so angry and upset. Then when I saw what you left in my daughter's bed, I fully understood and agreed with my child. You do not deserve to live. Your sentence is not merely passed for this night, but for the others that you have maimed, killed, and otherwise tortured in likewise fashion. As a result of your activities, I bestow your titles and lands to your younger brother. You will die a pauper, a titless pauper. You will be a nobody. I know how much your name and power mean to you. Now you will die knowing that I took them from you." Lance glared at Sinclaire.

For a moment neither man spoke. Sinclaire stared at his king as his king stared at him, breathing heavily as he watched the blood dripping down Sinclaire's arm and face.

"I will return. You will never kill me. You don't know who you are dealing with. But you will, oh yes, you will." Sinclaire sneered. His venom dripping from each word as he spewed them forth.

"You have also been condemned for a direct threat to your king. Cassie will get her wish. Your head will remain on display for all to see. But this I promise to you. Your pain will last much more than the rest of the condemned. I will personally see to it that your head comes off slowly. I will hear you scream for mercy even as I imagine Julia had done. And as you, I will not grant it. That is a promise, it is not a threat."

"You can promise all that you want, but you will never defeat me."

Lance abruptly stood up. He whirled around, reaching the door he turned back to Sinclaire. "You have cast your lot in with the devil. May the gods have mercy on your soul, for I cannot. Your head will rest on the pole for the crows to eat your eyes."

Lance left the smelly cell and had to sit down for a moment. He was shaken to the core. He truly did not know the evil that he had trusted. He stood up and walked tot he upper levels.

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"Anen?"

"Yes?"

"Are you all right?"

"I am mad as hell. That man ruined a beautiful girl! He took a delicate flower of a woman and he crushed her soul as well as her body! I have never hated anyone like I do your brother!"

Byron watched his best friend chopping firewood. The anger in which he struck the helpless wood showed how far above his normal emotions this had caused him pain. Byron was very relieved that Cassie, the intended victim, had been spared, but he felt terrible at the same time because not only was it Cassie's best friend who was in her stead, but his best friend's interest that had suffered so.

"Byron?"

"Yes?"

"Do you think that it would be considered murder to kill a condemned man?"

"I think that the King would agree with you on this one, Anen, but we must allow King Lance to do what is right. Other men who have the same predilection need to see what will happen to them, their titles meaning nothing in this."

"You are right. I just, oh, I don't know. I feel the need to do something. You don't understand how helpless I felt when I was with Julia. As strong as I am, I was of no help to her. She was in so much pain, and I couldn't help her!"

"I know what you mean. It scares me that Sinclaire intended Cassie to be his victim, but, I am proud of both of them. Cassie for telling me, a virtual stranger that she felt that she was in danger form my own brother, and Julia for fighting back. If she hadn't warned us, the knife wouldn't have been under her pillow. If Julia hadn't been calm enough to somehow get her hands on it while Sinclaire had her tied up, then who knows what could have happened. We should both be proud that the women in this castle have the guts to do what is needed even in the face of danger. You need to go to her and tell her how proud you are of her for fighting back when so many women would not."

"You are right, I suppose. I just can't face her knowing that I failed her so horribly."

"Yes you can. You will do it, too."

"But, Byron?"

"How will I live with myself if she looks at me with the same accusations in her eyes that I feel in my own heart?"

"You will do it because she still needs you."

Anen hung his head. Byron was right. Julia needed him. Maybe more so than anyone could dare say out loud. This was a traditional culture. The fact that Julia is no longer a virgin, be it by her choice or not, is a mark against her for a good marriage. Anen hated that ridiculous rule. Men were allowed to "sow their wild oats" while women were supposed to sit at home and hopefully stay protected. It wasn't fair, and Anen had never believed that it was. Now he had more reason than ever to challenge tradition and say to hell with it all, we all know what is right. He wasn't sure if Byron would stick his neck out that far, though. He thought so, but wasn't entirely sure.

Byron finished what he was doing and decided to take a walk. "Anen, come with me." Anen followed, knowing instinctively where Byron was heading.

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Cassie was wiping Julia's brow. She was asking for Anen, but at the same time inconsistently declaring that she didn't want him to see her like this. She was afraid that he would reject her. Most men would. How could Cassie explain the pain that she saw in Anen's eyes when he saw Julia? How could she explain the extent of hatred and anger she felt emote from Anen toward her future brother in law? How could she convince Julia that he wasn't like most men that they knew? Cassie saw it from the beginning. Anen and Byron were indeed close friends because they were very much alike in their ideals. Their passions seemed to be one and the same. Their country, their king, their women were all precious to them. While he didn't realize it, Cassie had been spying on her betrothed. She saw everything that she had expected to hear and see.

Lord Byron is a just and fair man for all around him. He gave no special favors, but treated all equally, from maid to cook to stable hand to king. He treated all with respect and courtesy. Her heart skipped a beat when she thought of him. Byron; so strong, so kind, so sweet, so manly. She loved his scent, his arms around her, his quick wit and understanding of her ideas and passions.

Cassie blushed at the thought of her passions. She displayed herself wantonly to Byron, and he responded. She wondered, would it be that way every time? She hoped so, for she loved his responses to what she had done. She learned so much about herself that night. She also learned about Byron that night. How his naked chest felt against hers. How silky smooth the skin of his thigh was close to his hip. How ticklish he was in a few spots. How loving he could be.

"Oh, lord. I am in love with him already, aren't I?" Cassie sighed. It felt nice, but at the same time scary. How did he feel about her? Was she really more to him than another woman to warm his bed? She decided that she needed to tell him her secret. She also wanted to give him a few of her ideas for the upcoming campaign, to take to her father. She knew that given her status as a woman, in her father's eyes, she was uneducated and stupid about the ways of war and fighting. What King Lance did not know, was that for several years, his daughter sat in on many of his discussions with his generals. His lovely daughter, Princess Cassandra, spied on her own father. She had accidentally discovered a niche where she could hide and yet still hear and see most of their meetings. Cassie was a fast learner. She realized quickly what was going on and had a few ideas of her own to give their own army an advantage. As a woman, she had no way to present her ideas without being a laughing stock or worse, patronized.

Julia was crying again, not from the pain, but from the loss that she felt so dearly to the one man who had stolen her heart. Anen had a look of hatred in his eyes when he saw her. She couldn't bear to see that again. He hated her now. She was spoiled goods. As a woman, she was nothing more than property to the men around her. Her virginity was gone. That was all that she had that was truly hers, and it was gone. It was her last claim to a good marriage. It was gone. She wept through the futility of her life. She would die a spinster. She was grateful to having known the pleasure of a man flirting with her. She felt desirable, a prospect for him, not a mere passing fancy. But that was what she would be from now on. A man's passing fancy since she was now damaged goods. That hurt more than the black and blue eye that was swollen shut, more so than where she was stitched back together. A part of her was missing. Her future dead to her now.

"Princess?"

"Yes, Julia?"

"Do you think that Anen would ever speak to me again?"

"Why wouldn't he?"

"Because I am no longer a virgin."

"That wasn't your fault. You didn't choose this. Look at you. Anyone could see that it was forced upon you, and if anyone has a problem with that, then they can bring it to me."

"Men don't think that way."

"I think that Anen does. He looked as if he wanted to rip Sinclaire into pieces, slowly. I think that Byron would too. I asked Father to cut off his head and hang it on a pole for me. I want his head on display. I want him to die a horrible death. I want him to know that I, a mere woman, ordered it." Cassie's voice was venomous.

Julia cried, not in anger, but in relief. Her future may not be so dismal after all. She knew that Cassie meant every word. She also knew that Cassie felt responsible, for she was the true intent, not Julia herself.

Julia finally fell asleep, the herbs doing their job. She twitched a few times and moaned, but was mostly quietly sleeping. Cassie asked for another woman to keep guard over her. When the lady arrived, she apprised her of the events, and gave strict orders to send for her if Julia were to awaken. She also gave strict orders that unless Tristan allowed it, no visitors aside from herself, Anen, Byron, and her own father, for the time being. She wanted Julia to have time to recover while she could.

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Byron paced in his room. How would King Lance handle the situation of his own relationship with Sinclaire? He imagined that King Lance could strip him of his titles and lands as well, and cancel his wedding with Cassie. The titles and money he didn't care about. He did, however, care about Cassie. He was afraid of losing her. The only woman that would probably be able to understand his thoughts, dreams, desires. She was more than he had ever hoped for in a wife.

Cassie was smart. She was very quick when it came to politics. She was able to grasp a situation, almost before he himself could. She was able to make decisions easily, and was the type of person to stand by her principles. She might have to bow down to her father, and accept his views on women, but she did so in her own way. Cassie was a strong woman, capable of so many things. She was also very beautiful He loved her hair, the soft feel of her skin under his fingers.

Byron reminisced about the very intimate time that he had already had with her. She was more than willing to please him. He wanted her all the more for that reason. He thought of the bandaged arm. Byron wondered what she meant by saying that she would tell him later about it. His brow furrowed as he thought of different reasons as to why, or even when, she was injured.

She didn't say anything about it hurting, but thinking back, she had winced the day before when on their picnic. He also had seen blood on the bandage, meaning that it was a fairly recent injury. His fiancee was an enigma. Very interesting, he thought. There was a gentle knock on his door, and he knew immediately who it was.

"Come in, Cassie."

"How did you know that it was I?"

"Your knock. Besides, I was just thinking about you."

"I know. I need to talk to you about some things. I should have told you this before, but I was afraid to."

"You need not fear telling me anything."

"I know that now. I feel that I can implicitly trust you. I thought before that I could, at our first meeting, but I wanted to be sure."

Byron sat down, gesturing for Cassie to do the same. She declined with a slight shake of her head, and began to pace, much like he had been recently pacing.

"What is it that you need to tell me?"

"Well," she stammered. "Well, do you remember that my arm was bandaged and I would explain it later?"

"Yes, I was just wondering about it, too."

"I got it from practicing with a sword. Father doesn't know it, but I have been sneaking lessons for months now. I have been told that I am getting to be pretty good with a rapier. I hope to eventually master the broadsword. I know that it takes a lot of strength, but I am determined to do so."

"Why is it, I am not surprised at all? Your tenacity, even within your father's walls, astounds me. I have trouble with the idea that you could fail at anything that you set out to do. When did this happen?" He gently touched her arm, where the sleeve covered the telltale bandage.

"The afternoon that I met you. I was almost late because of practice. Tristan was relieved to hear the next day that I would be taking a few days off for practice, mainly because I had torn them during that practice session. He is really very good at stitching up a person."

"I see. Well, that would explain why you winced a few times when I had touched your arm that day. Why didn't you say anything? I could understand not telling me how you got hurt, but to know that you were injured would have sufficed."

"My father would have known why. He prohibited me from learning, saying that women should not ever arm themselves. We are the weaker sex, and as such, should act so."

Byron laughed. "Well, I can see your father saying that. He is very old fashioned. He means no harm, but he was raised that women were supposed to be helpless and men the protectors. I know that it must be frustrating for you, but, he knows no other way. It is hard for old men to learn. A complete change in a belief, now that is damned impossible to accomplish."

"I never thought of it that way. I guess that you are right. I take it that you are not offended by my desire to learn how to protect myself?"

"Not at all. I think that you should continue to learn. In fact, would you mind if I took over your lessons, after watching you for a few days to see what you know, and to see what weaknesses that you might have?"

Cassie's mouth gaped open. She had half expected him to forbid her as well. She never expected this. "Are you serious? Do you honestly mean that I do not have to stop?"

Byron laughed. "No, Cassie. I should think that most women would want to learn how to defend themselves. I commend you on your determination to do so. I only hope that you never have to use your knowledge, but from what I have seen, chances are that you will have to know something."

Cassie was relieved. She knew then that she would hire a trainer for all women in her estates, she felt the same way, and Byron would support her on this.

"There is one thing that has been nagging me since you did it. How did you know that something was wrong? I heard nothing, not until we were fairly close to your rooms. How is it that you were able to know what was going on, and no one else was?"

"I am not sure. Sometimes I get pictures in my head. I can see bits and pieces of what is happening somewhere else, but it had never been so strong as then. I knew that it was imperative that we intervene. Unfortunately, I didn't sense it in time." Cassie looked down. She knew that if she had paid more attention to her warning system, she could have avoided the incident entirely. She blamed herself for Julia's condition.

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