Royal Feud

Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Why could not her own brothers treat her with one-tenth the care Damien showed her? What had she ever done to cause her own father to so loathe and despise her? Was

she so tainted that she deserved such foul treatment from her own flesh-and-blood?

How she longed to lean into Damien, to be gathered into his strong, capable arms, and let him deal with her problems. And she knew he would try to solve them all. He would fight against her father and his evilness with all his might. Perhaps Damien could find a way out of this horror. Perhaps he would suggest that they flee Morefy and run away together.

She gave full rein to the seductive idea of escape. Freedom. Peace. Serenity. Happiness. Maybe even love.

But where could they go where they would be safe? They had nothing no money, no transportation, no way of providing for themselves. Her father would hunt them down with all the resources at his disposal. When he found them and there was no question that he would he would make them both pay. For her, that payment was likely to be a beating. She would survive a beating, as she had done so often in the past. But Damien would not survive her father's retribution. She knew he would kill Damien...and enjoy doing so.

Hermione could not sacrifice her friend to save herself. She could not bear it if Damien was harmed because of her. She would have to come up with a way to help herself. She had no one to rely upon but herself. Bowing her head, she took a deep, slow, breath. Picking at the black fabric of the kirtle covering her legs, she released her dream of freedom. It was nothing but a chimera, insubstantial and fleeting.

"I am just a little on edge. I hate it when he is home." Her voice came out a mere whisper. "I know. I know." He patted her shoulder. "He is in a much better mood today, so that at least is good news."

"Aye."

"Mayhap you can take a walk outside this afternoon. That always cheers you up." "Nay." She violently shook her head. "Nay. 'Tis not safe."

"Calm yourself, Hermione." His melodious voice was smooth and reassuring. "You need not leave your chamber today if you do not wish to do so. Do you want me to bring you anything when I come back later?"

"Nay, I am fine."

"Are you sure?"

She nodded. There was a long pause. Hermione did not know what else to say to him. All her thoughts were centered on her predicament. What was she to do?

"Well, I had better get back to my duties before I am missed."

"Aye," she said.

"Hermione." His voice was hesitant. "Do you still have my key?"

"Aye."

She straightened and hunted for the key on the pallet where she had dropped it. Locating it between the straw mat and the wall, she handled it to him. He patted her shoulder one more time, then stood. After following him to the door and locking it behind him, she lay on her pallet and stared up at the ceiling.

Sunlight faded slowly from the room, leaving her in darkness. Still she was immobile. She toyed with the alluring idea of taking her own life. That would deprive her father of a pawn for his scheme. After all, would not death be better than continuing to lead this miserable existence to which she had been reduced?

"Why, God? Why have You done this to me? What have I ever done that I deserve this punishment? Why have You caused me so much pain and suffering?"

Her plaintiff wail shattered the silence. But of course there was no answer. If there was a God, He had never heard her cries. He had never spoken to her or comforted her or helped her.

Suicide was a way out. But what if God really did exist? What if the priests were right? Then she would be consigning her eternal soul to hell if she took her own life. The fear of the unknown was deep and cutting. At least she knew what to expect from life on this earth. Who knew what happened after death?

Besides, suicide was craven, a coward's way out. She could not be so selfish. She had to do what she could to help Ishton.

She could not see any option other than throwing herself on Ishton's mercy and telling him about her father's scheme. At least if the baron was aware of the treachery her father was planning, he would have a chance to fight back and defend his castle. Ishton might spare her life while she knew her father would not. And at least this way she had a chance to help others.

And maybe, just maybe, she would have a chance to find some small measure of peace for herself.

Belwick came through the door of the donjon, and Devlin crossed the wide expanse to meet him in the middle of the hall. The tapping of their boots against the wood floor echoed in the vast, empty space. All of the servants had gone outside, leaving an abnormal quiet behind. "Devlin," Hugh said as he came to a halt, "Morefy and his entourage are now approaching the castle."

"How many men are with him?"

"I saw five guards, in addition to Morefy's two sons and his daughter."

"Do our men know what to look out for?"

"Aye, Devlin. I have posted a double watch, as we discussed, and I gave instructions "Good. So we are as ready as we can be, regardless of what trickery Morefy has up to the guards myself." his sleeve."

"Just so, Devlin. Just so." "Thank you, Hugh."

The two men exchanged a long, taciturn look. Devlin read in Hugh's face his commiseration and regret. Tight-lipped, he nodded once as he grasped Hugh's shoulder in silent thanks.

Hugh bowed, turned, and strode across the hall. Devlin watched him leave before strolling back to the warmth of the fireplace where he rejoined his mother and Wyham, who stood quietly talking together.

Lucy wore her prized blue woolen mantle lined with white ermine fur. She had insisted that he wear his father's matching cloak. Devlin had submitted to her desire to treat this wedding as a festive occasion and had allowed her to make him a new tunic, also in the same brilliant shade of blue that she maintained brought out the color of his eyes. Wyham was similarly dressed in an expensive, fur-lined mantle. Both Wyham and Lucy looked at him as he stopped in front of them.

"Morefy and his family are here. "Tis time." He held out his hand to Lucy.

"Mother?"