The Ward Ch. 10

Everett choked with surprise. "W-Women? In...?"

"Finding the records lacking, I spoke again with members of your staff," Alexander explained. "It turns out that some attended the Stiles' estate prior to the fire. They mentioned a reported kidnapping which proved uneventful; but they also confirmed female peasants were liberated from the property."

Another silence hung in the air. Finally, Alexander continued with stony emphasis. "Perhaps Stephan presumed that detail was unnecessary, as they were only peasants."

"Q-Q-Quite likely," Everett stammered, unnerved by Alexander's cold disapproval. "It was... As a minor matter that precluded the fire... Perhaps he considered it less relevant. I will speak with him about..."

"I sent two of my men to Gosfordshire," Alexander calmly interrupted. "I was informed that is where the women were transported." His brow furrowed. "Informed by word of mouth, you understand, as there are no records," he added pointedly.

Everett swallowed and tensely waited.

"Upon their arrival, none of the officials had any knowledge of peasant women..."

"My Lord, if I may," Everett protested. "If you are beset about peasant women being unaccounted for-!"

"Because they never arrived," Alexander finished. "Upon further inquiry, my men learned a carriage of women destined for Gosfordshire was waylaid and ended up in a lake. And, here we are."

Everett shrugged uncomfortably. "Unfortunate things happen, my Lord. As I said, they were peasant women. Probably criminals-"

"At least one of your staff were of the opinion they were innocent women being mistreated by the Stiles."

Everett sighed heavily with resignation. "My Lord, I'm afraid I'm at a complete loss as to what you expect me to say. These matters are irrelevant to the Stiles' deaths, which was the initial purpose of your visit."

"Initially." Alexander was silent a moment. He had been shocked to discover Edmund's parents passed away in a fire many years ago, and that the Bards were closely affiliated with the Stiles. He was also very confused that Edmund neglected to mention his fiancé's supposed abduction by the Stiles on the night of their deaths.

He set the puzzling details aside and continued his line of questioning. "You mentioned Stephan has a good rapport with nobles?" he asked Everett. "Is it possible he was on personal terms with the Stiles?"

Everett promptly straightened. "Absolutely not, my Lord. Never," he declared. "My men would never trespass in that manner, especially Stephan. As I said, nobles like him to handle their matters."

Everett rubbed his temple, straining his memory. "The Stiles family always appreciated his efficiency. The Linely family often request he oversees their soirees, and he has occasionally escorted the Governor on trips beyond town. And... Why, it wasn't long ago that one of my officers saw Lady Amelie's carriage outside Stephan's personal offices."

Alexander's hand slipped and he almost doused the scrolls in red wine. "What?"

"Oh, Lady Amelie is from one of our town's most prestigious families," Everett reassured him, seeing Alexander was stunned. "Lady Amelie is known as a cool beauty, but she is a genteel, respectable young woman. I did some work for her father, back when..."

Alexander wasn't listening. Disbelieving what he'd just heard, he pinched the bridge of his nose and bluntly interrupted Everett's reminiscing. "I beg your pardon, Everett, but did you just say Lady Amelie visited the compound expressly to see Stephan?"

"W-Well, I understand it might seem unusual..." Everett looked slightly put out by the question and Alexander's tone. "It would have been a private matter requiring discretion, and Stephan is very discreet. Nobles normally send servants, but it is likely she was in the area..."

"Thank you, Everett." Alexander briskly gathered the scrolls, placing them in order, his hands shaking. "I believe you are right about the hour, and I am feeling rather famished."

Everett was relieved. "In which case, my Lord, I can arrange-"

"No, thank you, Everett. I will dine at The Tancredi. Please have my horse ready."

***

The night air was perfect when Sage and Edmund went for their ride, sitting close on the mare, Mayan, cantering happily along the dark track.

"I want you to take me under the stars," Sage had demanded with a wicked breathlessness that Edmund couldn't refuse. He dismissed Joel's objections and brought his sword, arguing that there was no better weapon than his fiancé's temper.

Edmund pulled the reigns, satisfied they were far enough from his estate, but not so far that they couldn't find their way back on foot in an emergency. He lowered Sage to the ground and dismounted. Sage's hands were sliding up his hard chest the moment his feet touched the ground, her soft, rosy mouth eager for kisses.

"No, Sage," he murmured against her lips when she tried futilely to loosen his belt. "I'll not leave my weapon by the wayside."

Sage grinned and lowered to her knees, maintaining eye-contact, smiling mischievously as her hand worked its way into his pants to pull his cock free. Then she admired it, the thick length pointed stiffly at her mouth, slowly stroking the pulsing shaft, the silken heat of the flesh, parts rippled that she knew would bring pleasure inside her. She looked up again, her blue eyes shining, and took him into her mouth.

Edmund's eyelids grew heavy, his hand lightly threaded through Sage's hair, disrupting her braid, gently guiding her movements as she pleasured him under the moon. The sight was like nothing he'd experienced, a woman he loved more than anything, on her knees, her beautiful mouth full of him, her face still so elegant.

Sage gagged lightly when he hit the back of her throat, she paused, taking a deep breath and began to push forward, feeling him begin to enter her throat. She withdrew with a small cough, her lips and chin wetly gleaming like his cock, then tried again. The act excited her, anticipating the same girth invading her lower body, bringing a wonderful pleasure.

Edmund groaned and closed his eyes, his knees felt weak and he strengthened his stance. He opened his eyes and stiffened.

Sage hesitated when his hand clenched in her hair and distanced her.

"Sage, stop," he spoke without moving his lips when she looked up, confused. "We're being watched."

Sage swallowed and remained kneeling while Edmund briskly restrained his cock. He guided Sage to her feet and cupped her face, kissing her gently.

"Take Mayan," he murmured. "You must ride straight home. Joel will send help."

Sage's eyes widened. "No."

"Yes." Edmund's expression changed, his calm mood suddenly menacing in light of the threat. "There's more than one. If we're lucky, they want coin. Otherwise, they must be here for you."

"I don't care," Sage whispered.

Edmund pinched her chin, his eyes fierce. "I can't fight my best if I'm worried about you."

Sage opened her mouth to argue, and they both turned when four men emerged from the trees, two on horseback.

"Valiant Lord Bard." One horseman lazily inclined his head. "If you would be so kind to relinquish your fiancé and her talented mouth, you might survive the night."

Edmund pushed Sage behind him and drew his sword. "Your manners were not so lacking at my engagement ball, Sweyn."

The rider laughed and drew back the hood of his cloak, lightly shaking shoulder-length brown hair. He was well-dressed, an aristocrat, with stocky features and an unpleasant face. "Sharp for a mortal, is he not?" He glanced aside as his companion also revealed his identity.

"It is almost a shame to kill him," drawled the other rider, Harald. His dark eyes were on Sage, insolently running up the skirt of her dusted gown to her flushed face. "But a risk worth the prize."

"A greater shame he sighted us before we could see the little whore fuck," Sweyn smiled.

Edmund angrily stepped forward and Sage gripped his arm warningly.

"Edmund. The nobles; they're witches," she said with low urgency.

The men on foot, two servants, attacked first. Edmund roughly shoved Sage back, she staggered with the force and almost fell onto the mare.

Edmund raised the sword to the first man, but kicked him instead, using the downward momentum to slash the chest of the other serf. Without hesitating, he brought the sword down on the fallen man, his eyes on the other, crawling a trail of blood.

"Edmund!" Sage screamed.

Edmund saw Harald had dismounted, purposefully extending his palm to him. Edmund dropped down, shuddering against the path as something whooshed overhead. He pushed up and tackled Harald, forgetting his sword on the path.

Sage anxiously stepped closer as Edmund steadily punched Harald in the face.

"He doesn't have to die."

Sage whirled to find Sweyn behind her, too close. "Get away from me!" she snarled.

"John Canning told us what you are," Sweyn announced. "The creature you affiliate with." His eyes raked her figure. "If you come willingly, we'll spare Edmund."

Choking angrily, his face broken, Harald managed to wrap his hand about Edmund's throat. "Anaeshish," he hissed through bloodied lips.

Edmund dealt two more punches before noticing he couldn't draw air. He managed a third hit before Harald gained advantage.

"You can save him," Sweyn said carefully. "Get on my horse, Sage. Quickly, now."

Horrified, Sage watched Harald stand and wipe blood on his sleeve with satisfaction as Edmund continued to struggle with an unseen, suffocating force.

"He's dying," Sweyn continued, catching Sage when she tried to reach Edmund. He gripped her shoulders and forced her to watch. "Animals will come for him before the morrow."

"No!" Sage shouted, her chest heaving as she fought Sweyn's hold. "Edmund!"

"He won't answer," Harald laughed savagely. "Why do you bother convincing her, Sweyn? I've a mind to ride with her tied naked to the rump of my horse."

A nasty grin formed on Sweyn's face.

"EDMUND!" Sage cried frantically, continuing to scream his name while thrashing against Sweyn's hold.

Harald turned to them; his face scornful. "Find a way to silence her, will you?"

Sweyn forced Sage to the path, straddling her, catching her wrists. "He'll be dead by the time I'm done with you," he muttered, working to tug her skirt up.

Sobbing, Sage raised her head and saw Edmund losing his battle. She seized up like she'd been poisoned.

Sweyn frowned at her stiffening figure. "What...?"

Sage released a startling shriek. It continued on as she drew breath, the sound unnaturally hysterical, as if she was being subjected to an unspeakable agony.

Harald jumped with surprise, his boots on fire. "Fuck." He stamped and kicked as the flames licked up his pants to his torso. Looking to Sweyn, his face twisted with horror, he began to scream as the heat travelled higher.

"What in the Gods-?" Sweyn scrambled to his feet, staring at his friend.

Edmund raggedly gasped and relaxed against the ground. Then he coughed heavily, dizzily rolled to his side, his fist pressed to the dirt to support himself and gazed at the alight man with astonishment. He saw Sage writhing on the ground, screaming in unison with Harald, but he'd no idea what was done to her.

Harald was no longer visible, completely consumed in the flames, his high shrieks jumped to an ear-splitting pitch and ended suddenly. The figure collapsed in a burning pile.

Shuddering uncontrollably, Sage's eyes rolled back, and she lay prone in a dead faint. Sweyn ran to her and Edmund collided with him. They fell to the side, viciously wrestling.

Sweyn let out a shout of pain when his ribs cracked under Edmund's fist and slapped both palms to Edmund's temples. Edmund roared at the blinding pain that followed.

"Your witch can't save you this time!" Sweyn shouted over him. "Farewell, Bard!"

Edmund's vision dissolved to blackness.

He presumed himself dead or dying, until a boot roughly nudged him. He opened dazed eyes, his sight blurry, gazing up at an unimpressed stranger.

"On your feet, Lord Bard," the man flatly ordered. "You're not dead yet."

"Sage," Edmund said hoarsely. "Where is she?"

The man sighed impatiently and gestured to someone offside. "Why did you save him? He's useless. We should leave him here."

Edmund heard footsteps draw closer.

"He comes with us. If his people find him like this, they will talk," said a new voice, more authoritarian than the first. "We must remove all trace of what happened before we depart. The lady should be at the manor by now." There was a reflective pause. "I've not seen such power from a witch, and a novice at that. We must throw off the Guard investigators at all costs."

"Where's Sage?" Edmund groaned, straining, he managed to half sit-up.

Then he noticed Sweyn lying next to him, dead, his eyes impossibly wide and clouded entirely white as though replaced by large pearls in the sockets.

Edmund shuddered; the stabbing pain lingered in his head. He focused on the two men, recognising them as aristocrats he'd seen in town but wasn't acquainted with.

The men ignored him, one nudging the other and pointing to where the servant Edmund had sliced through the chest was desperately edging along the road. "He's still alive."

"I suppose I'll take care of it then, shall I?" the other replied sarcastically, drawing a small blade and going over to the man. There was a weak cry of dismay, then a gurgling that faded to silence.

"Sage," Edmund ground out, his legs refusing to obey him. "Where is she?"

The effort of sitting up was too much and he fell to his side, again facing the disturbing sight of Sweyn's ghastly dead face. He could hear voices; aware the men were making more scathing commentary about him. He saw their horses; large, black, war stallions bred for speed, displaying silver emblems that gleamed fluidly in the moonlight.

Habern's crest.