Medieval Ever After Read Free Page B

daughter has a different destiny.”
    Stephen took that as his cue. Reaching out, he grasped the petite brunette by the arm and yanked her clear of her family group before anyone could react. Alexander roared in protest as his wife screamed; the commotion brought the knights and soldiers in the great hall to bear, armed to the teeth and prepared to stab the first Scots who tried to cross the line. While the women in Seton’s group began to wail pitifully, Seton himself suddenly lost all of his arrogance.
    “Please, Sire, I beg you,” he was quickly growing panicked. “Not Joselyn. Take me for whatever punishment you choose and I shall gladly submit myself. But leave my daughter alone.”
    Stephen was already pulling Joselyn across the hall, heading for the main door. He was focused on his duty and ignored the chaos that had erupted. In his grasp, his prisoner was doing very little resisting; instead, she seemed to be trying to calm her kin.
    “Da!” she called to the man steadily. “All will be well. Do not fret so!”
    Her father tore his eyes away from the young king in time to see his daughter being hauled through the front door by a mountain of a man. Pembury was the biggest knight he had ever seen and he was terrified. Hand on his heart as if to hold in his terror, he looked back to the young king.
    “What will you do with her?” he asked in raspy voice.
    Edward cocked a fair eyebrow. “Have no fear, Seton,” he was not sure he liked this man in the least. “She will not meet the same fate as your son. In fact, you have just met your future son-in-law. You could live to be a thousand years old and never find such an honorable man. Consider yourself and your daughter extremely fortunate.”
    Seton looked as if he were about to pass out. In fact, that was what his wife did as soon as Joselyn left the room.

THE SAVAGE CURTAIN

    CHAPTER TWO
    The smell of smoke and death was heavy in the air now, just a few moments after midnight, as Stephen pulled Joselyn across the dusty bailey and towards the keep of Berwick. The moon was starting to emerge, just peeking over the northeast hills, and the land was illuminated a soft gray color. Joselyn didn’t say a word as the enormous knight pulled her up the steps into the keep and took her into the first room they came to, a small solar just off the main entry. Once inside the cold and dark room, he shut and bolted the door.
    He had also let her go by that time. Clad in her tartan and a rough wool garments that were heavy and warm, she pressed herself against the wall as far as she could go while Stephen went to see about a fire. There was very little kindling but he piled it expertly, searching until he found the small piece of flint and stone used to light the fire. He managed to spark a small blaze on the first try.
    So far, he hadn’t said a word. Joselyn watched him closely, struggling not to show her anxiety. He was big and evil-looking, covered with dark stains that she could only assume to be blood. He wore no helm, his short black hair glimmering weakly as the small fire grew in strength. He blew on it a few times and when he was convinced it was not going to die, he stood up to face her.
    It was like looking up at the tallest tree; she had to crane her neck back simply to look the man in the face. Being Scots, she had seen her share of big men, but the English knight before her went beyond even what she had ever witnessed. Along with the black hair, he had a square jaw and straight nose, and the most brilliant blue eyes she had ever seen. They were the color of cornflowers and as he looked at her, they fairly glowed with curiosity, power and perhaps a bit of anger. She couldn’t really blame him. But she was very concerned about what he was going to do with her. After several appraising moments, he lowered his gaze and vigorously scratched his scalp.
    “As you have been informed, my name is Stephen,” he said in a deep voice that seemed to bubble up from his