Page 10 of The Darkland

Oh, Mara… what have you done now?

*

The broken pitcherhad cut her hand when she smashed it on his shoulder. Bleeding and sobbing, Mara remained under the bed where the knight couldn’t reach her. He stomped about, issuing violent threats as she continued to resist him, refusing to sate his lust.

In hindsight, it hadn’t been the wisest decision to leave camp. She should have remained, by Micheline’s side, safe and sound as Lord Edmund’s men watched over her. Even Kirk. He had saved her from falling to her death yesterday, but she doubted he could save her from what was about to happen. The results of her own stupidity.

But that was the problem with Mara. Always regretting her hasty actions, allowing her impulsive nature to rule her common sense. Micheline attributed her foolishness to her youthful years; Mara hoped she was right. She hoped that with age would come sensible maturity. And as the knight continued to rage and drink, Mara prayed she would live that long.

As fearful as she was, she grew even more fearful when the shouting finally stopped. She could hear footfalls pacing about the room and just when she thought, mayhap, the knight had given up, she was startled when a massive hand reached under the bed. Unable to move away fast enough, the knight had her by the skirts and pulled her out in a flash.

“There you are, sweetling.” He threw her on the bed, his heavy body landing atop her. Mara swallowed the bile in her throat as he tried to kiss her. “You were a naughty girl, hiding from me. Now is your chance to make amends.”

Mara twisted, turning her head and struggling not to vomit. He was heavy, crushing her slight body into the mattress. The knight’s slobbering lips were on her cheek, her chin, moving down her neck. As Mara gasped and fought, he brought both of her hands up and pinned them above her head.

With one free hand he could do a good deal of damage. Starting at her round breasts, he squeezed them roughly and Mara screamed. The minute she opened her mouth, he put his tongue in it.

She spit and twisted, weeping as he laughed. The hand moved down her torso, fumbling with her skirts, and Mara’s struggles increased. A calloused hand ran the length of her leg and she lashed out, managing to kick him as his attention focused on the unfurled flower between her legs. The knight grunted, using a knee to spread her legs as his hand moved to her bare buttocks.

Sharply, he slapped her white bottom. “Cease!” he growled. “Since I have no intention of releasing you, I would suggest you learn to enjoy it.”

Mara ignored him, still twisting and bucking. If she wasn’t enjoying the encounter, then she would make sure he did not either. She simplycouldn’t believe her foolishness had led her to this point, her innocence about to be taken by a drunken knight. The only thing of personal value she possessed was about to be stolen and she vowed at the moment that if God would allow her to come through intact, she would never do anything so stupid again.

But her prayers were cut short as the knight’s hand moved to the black ringlets between her legs. Mara screamed again, trying desperately to avoid his probing fingers. He grinned lewdly, stroking the dry folds.

“Give me a bit of dew, sweetling,” he muttered, his breath coming in heavy gasps. “’Twill make it easier on you.”

She had no idea what he was talking about, panic filling her. A thick finger wormed its way inside her and she screamed again.

“Just a little bit,” he rasped against her cheek. “Just a little and I shall end your torment.”

There was a knock at the door. The knight turned his head away from Mara long enough to bellow at the interruption.

“Leave us!”

His finger was moving inside her, uncomfortable and foreign. Mara whimpered, tears trailing down her temples, as the knight’s wriggling finger suddenly stopped. His eyes widened as he stared at her.

“You’re a virgin?” He moved his finger again and she cried out in fear. Sighing raggedly, his gaze raked her pale face. “I can feel your maidenhood resisting me. Oh, sweetling, what a pleasure this will be.”

His mouth tried to claim her again, but she turned her head away, sobbing. The knight, however, was unable to progress any further; the chamber door suddenly exploded in a hail of splinters and Mara saw a flash of steel and armor. The knight rolled off her, scrambling for his weapon as the intruder entered the room.

Kirk brought the blade down against the man’s neck, going no further than to imply the obvious. The knight froze and dropped his weapon as stone-gray eyes glittered with unnatural fury.

“I am weaponless, my lord,” he said calmly.

Kirk did not reply. His eyes remained trained on the defenseless knight as he spoke to Mara.

“Did he deflower you, Mara?”

Mara was standing by the end of the bed on quaking legs. She had no idea how she got there. “Nay, my lord,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “But… but he tried.”

Kirk’s blade remained poised at the man’s neck a moment longer before removing it with amazing speed. “Then I will spare him,” he growled. “Vacate this room immediately before I change my mind.”

The knight rose, collecting his armor and weapons. Kirk continued to stare at the man as he quit the room, unmoving until he heard the boot falls fade away. Then, he turned to Mara.

“What happened?”

She was shaking so terribly that she had to sit down. She could hardly look him in the eye. “I wanted to sleep in a warm, dry inn,” she said weakly. “The knight thought I was a whore. How did you find me?”