An unlikely love, the Godling

_ This is a Beta - Arc copy- which means there might be grammar issues which will be corrected when published.

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Chapter one

Rowena pulled her hood further down over her head, trying to conceal her bright red hair. She quickly glanced around the stone wall into the courtyard beyond. She saw two guards on duty before the gate and several knights talking in a loose group, the late-day sun shining off their plate. Rowena studied the knights for a moment and gave a wistful mental sigh. They were all large, powerful men, men no one but the king could tell what to do. Rowena wished she were like them, but that would never be. She was small and a girl, even small and weak for her age of ten. Not that it was her fault, she’d been hurt when she’d been four, badly so, and the wounds stunted her growth.

Rowena forced her thoughts back to the present and how to escape the King’s Keep. The easiest way would be to wait till one of the many wagons or carriages left. Then as it rolled past her hiding place jump, into or on to it, the gate guards were to keep people out and inspected only incoming wagons, not out going wagons. The problem would be the wait. When she didn’t report to her father as ordered he’d likely send her two half brothers Swein and Liam looking for her. She shivered at the thought of them, and sat down her back to the wall. Her half brothers enjoyed tormenting her, calling her freak and witch and thumping her whenever they could.

Her father never did stopped them, saying their abuse would make her strong. But then, again her father was not one to spare hitting her either. He beat her if she failed to please him, if she was too bold or too clever as he called it. In fact she was sure her father loathed her, except when he needed her and her gift. Gift that was a joke it was more of a curse. She could tell if a person lied or spoke the truth by touching them, even tell what they thought; she could also heal wounds, though it pained her to do so.

Today her father told her she was to use her gift for king Rollo of Ansgar. Her father was Godfred Forkbeard, Kinder’s King. Kinder was small and weak compared to Ansgar, so her father had come to Rollo’s court to curry Rollo’s favor and form an alliance. She was to use her gifts this night for King Rollo, to tell him if three men accused of being traitors were innocent or guilty. But reading someone as King Rollo wanted was agony. Not just physically painful, but it hurt her heart and soul. Reading another would require her to touch those men’s minds with hers, to see their inner thoughts and secrets. Usually what she discovered was shameful and sometimes horrifying.

Rowena kicked at a dandelion sprouting out of the cobblestones. Well, she wouldn’t do it anymore, so she’d decided to run away. She had a few coins in her pouch, enough to buy her a month’s worth of food if she was careful. She wasn’t even sure where she was going except away, away from the King’s court, and away from her father. She would go as far away as she could and perhaps find a job in a kitchen somewhere or as a chambermaid. Feet suddenly came into view, and she looked up as a wave of darkness rolled over her, making her stomach clench. Three boys stood before her, older than her they were perhaps thirteen or fourteen years old and richly dressed.

“Well, what do we have here, a little goat boy perhaps. Here to rob your better’s boy?” The middle boy smirked before dragging her to her feet by the front of her jerkin. The boy had dark brown hair and eyes; evil shimmered off him in waves. The boy was going to hurt her and enjoy doing it. She looked at his two companions; both boys were blond and well dressed, sons of lesser lords or knights perhaps. She grabbed at the boy’s hands trying to pull free, but the boy was too strong and she could not break his grip. He was also a good foot taller than her and out weighed her by at least forty pounds.

“I’m not a thief; my father is an important man. Now let me go.” Rowena kicked out, catching the boy in the stomach. He gurgled in surprise and dropped her as he doubled in pain. Rowena landed hard on her side and rolled onto her stomach, trying to crawl away as hands grabbed her from behind.

“You can’t kick Fred and get away with it, pig. Come on, let’s take this little pig to the garden and have some fun.” One blonde boy said as he twisted her right arm painfully behind her.

Rowena cursed her own stupidity; she should have planned better, been more cautious. These boys were most likely going to kill her, but she wouldn’t die without a fight, wouldn’t die easily. Rowena twisted, trying to kick the boy that held her and was rewarded with a sharp cuff to the head. Rowena saw stars, then more hands grabbed her and she was dragged roughly away.

* * * *

Kade strode out of the inner bailey, barely stifling the curse that rose to his lips. He had to control the rage boiling up inside him like a black beast; he couldn’t lose control, not here in the King’s court. It was fine to run amok in battle; there madness and mayhem earned you fear and praise, but not here in the King’s court. Today started as the best day of his life; today Kade Blackwell, the Black Dragon, bastard son of a baron, had won golden spurs. The king himself had presented them to Kade with a pouch of gold, a new sword, and the command of five men. Kade had worked and clawed his way up to be noticed by the King, to make himself more than a bastard, a thing to be looked down upon. He had achieved glory today; because of what he’d done at the battle of Burning Glens he’d been rewarded.

Kade frowned. He could barely remember the battle; he’d gone mad that day, let the beast rise within him, and he’d killed without mercy, without remorse. He’d not stopped killing till the battle was over and the men of Monmouth were retreating. His friend Bowman had come to him and shook him out of his madness, nearly at the cost of his own life. Kade had been covered in blood, other men’s blood, and was being cheered as a hero. They told him he’d killed sixty men, only receiving a few minor wounds, but he remembered nothing.

Today, he should be celebrating, but his happiness had been dashed when he’d discovered his lover Bethany St. Cloud had married a baron, a man old enough to be her father.

“By the gods.” Kade leveled a kick at a statue of a lion, it rocked back on its pedestal, and pain shot into his toes. She’d promised to wait for him, promised she’d wed him when he became a great man, but it had all been lies. While she’d been his lover, she’d also been with the Baron, and now she’d married him. When Kade had come to her a scant hour ago and asked her to be his wife she’d laughed at him. She’d told him he’d been good enough for a tumble, but would never consider marrying a bastard like him. Kade had stormed away and out of the Bailey looking for an outlet for his anger. Bowman his long suffering friend had followed, keeping a weary distance in case Kade lost control and did something he’d later regret.

Kade could still hear Beverly’s laughter ringing in his ears, a bastard she’d sneered. He couldn’t help the circumstances of his birth, but he’d made himself into something good and honorable. It didn’t seem to matter; he would always be Kade the bastard, Kade the ex slave, Kade the killer, Kade the beast. Kade cursed again and leveled another kick at the statue, knocking it over to crash into the verdant grass. He would keep fighting; he would become a great man one day, a lord, nay, a baron, and then who would sneer at him. He was considering what to smash next when he heard a soft cry, like an animal in pain, and looked up. At the end of the garden, in the shadows of a great oak, were four boys. Three large boys were beating a much smaller boy, who, despite being held against the wall, was putting up a fierce struggle. Kade’s head began to throb; he could not stand by and let someone be beaten and tortured. He knew that feeling of helplessness all too well.

* * * *

Rowena struggled against the two blonde boys holding her against the wall; they were brothers by the way they talked, and a lord’s son. Her other attacker was a baron’s brat, who thought that because his father was a baron, he could do whatever he wished, to whomever he wished. They were beating her for the fun of it, for the thrill and no other reason. One was named George. George’s fist smashed into her face, making her head ring, and she tried to kick him in the stomach again, but he jumped back out of her range, laughing. George was looming over her, about to punch her again, when abruptly he went fling backwards. A man appeared before her and snatched up the two boys holding her, lifting them off her, like they weighed nothing, free of her torturers Rowena slid down the wall to the ground, her ribs and face aching fiercely.

“You would beat a defenseless boy, a boy a third of your size.” Her rescuer ranted, holding the two boys up in the air at arm’s length. Rowena blinked her sore right eye and took a moment to examine her rescuer. He was extremely tall and well-muscled, wearing the black and gold jerkin of a king’s knight. His hair was as black and shiny as a raven’s wing and swept the collar of his jerkin. His face, from what she saw of it was handsome, but not in a soft way; no, there was nothing soft about this man, he looked like he’d been chiseled out of granite.

“Let us go. Let us go.” One of the boys sniveled as her rescuer shook him like a dog worrying a bone. “He’s nothing but a peasant, now let go.”

“And that gives you the right to torture him; I should rip off your arms, and beat you with them.” The man snarled. Rowena blinked in surprise and watched in amusement as one of the boys wet himself. Another man, with blond hair, came running up as her rescuer placed his right foot in the center of George’s chest, pinning him to the ground.

“Kade, Kade, what are you doing?” The blond man protested, tugging at the dark-haired man’s arm.

“They were going to kill that boy. I’ve a mind to beat some sense into them.” Kade snarled, but dropped the boys and removed his foot from George’s chest. The blond boys hit the grass hard and then rolled onto their stomachs before crawling away. George rubbed at a large boot print on his chest then pushed himself up.

“You bastard, I’ll tell my father what you did. He’ll make you pay.” George whined, looking like a boy who’d had a toy stolen and not the bully he’d been a moment ago.

“Bastard, bastard is it.” Kade thundered, looming over George. Kade felt Bowman’s hand on his arm, holding him back.

“Fine, tell your father the Black Dragon stopped you from beating a boy to death, now get out of my sight.” Kade snarled, making George back away.

“The Black Dragon.” George stammered his eyes wide with fear, then he spun and raced away.

Kade jerked free of Bowman’s grip but gave his friend a nod of thanks. Bowman had been right to hold him back; he had been so enraged he could have easily killed the three boys, and then what? He would have thrown away everything for a peasant boy. The boy, how badly was he hurt? Kade turned to see the boy attempting to stand; blood was running down his face from his nose, as well as a split lip. Surprisingly the boy wasn’t crying, simply eyeing Kade with a weary look that reminded Kade of a dog that had been beaten often. The boy was pretty, aye that was the only way to describe him. He had a small heart-shaped face and odd eyes that were an intense blue-green. He was wearing a huge shapeless cap that covered his hair and eyebrows, but by his complexion Kade guessed he was fair.

Rowena struggled to regain her composure and to fight down the pain in her ribs and face. Pain, she was used to pain; life was pain. She saw her savior eye her for a moment, then he pulled a scrap of white cloth out of his jerkin and held it to her.

“Take it, boy, your face is bleeding.” Kade watched as the boy hesitantly took the cloth, then pressed it to his face.

“Thank you sir, you were very kind.” Rowena managed to say, and winced as her jaw hurt.

“It was nothing; there was no excuse for three of them to attack you.” Kade studied the boy, again noting his calm demeanor, no weeping not even slow tears. “Are you well boy?”

“Yes, thank you my Lord. May I ask your name so I can pray to the gods in your honor?” Rowena managed a polite bow.

“Kade Blackwell,” Kade replied, amused that the boy was giving him a bow. Kade was also flattered by the boy’s words, lord, but he was only a knight. Though one day he’d be a lord or die trying. “Not lord boy, I’m simply a knight. Now let me take you to the kitchens, one of the maids should see to your face.” Kade offered the boy his hand.

Rowena repeated the knight’s name under her breath, committing it to memory, then shook her head.

“Thank you, sir, but I must go. I will manage.” Rowena had to get away; her father had probably already sent her brothers looking for her. Sir Kade frowned and thrust his hand at her again. She couldn’t take it, as much as she wanted to. She wasn’t wearing her protective gloves, and her skin would touch his. No one ever touched her in kindness anymore, no one touched her skin, no one touched her at all. Even when her father beat her, he never touched her bare skin; even he feared his freak of a daughter.

Rowena was saved from answering by the arrival of her brothers; they were a mixed blessing Rowena thought. They would take her to father who would beat her, but she was saved from touching the kindly knight, saved from having to explain that she was a freak.

“There you are, Maggot, father is looking for you. You’ll make us late for the King’s meeting.” Liam’s voice broke the awkward silence He strode up to her, grabbing her by the collar to drag her off the wall.

“Why do you look like a goat herder, Maggot, and what did you do to your face, run into another fist?” Swein laughed. “A broken nose could only be an improvement.” He kicked her in the backside sending her flying to fall hard on the grass, only to have Liam drag her back up by her jerkin.

“What in the hell?” Kade snapped, watching in horror as the boy was dragged away by two tall young men, about sixteen or seventeen, both richly dressed, with long black hair, and dark brown eyes. He again felt Bowman’s hand on his arm.

Rowena twisted; jerking out of Liam’s grasp, and ran back to Kade. She made another bow as Liam stepped up behind her.

“Thank you again, Sir Kade. May Odin bless you and grant you all your wishes, may your blade always strike true.” Rowena managed as Liam grabbed her by the back of her jerkin to jerk her backwards. “I’ll never forget your kindness.”

Kade watched in horrified disbelief as the boy was dragged away by his so-called brothers. The blackness again boiled up in him, and he itched to act to save the boy. But what could he do, the older boys by their dress were lordlings, and were obviously his brothers.

“I know it rankles but there is nothing we can do. You at least saved the boy a beating.” Bowman said softly, and Kade grunted. Saved from one beating, probably only to get another. No wonder he’d not wanted to take Kade’s hand, no wonder he’d feared him, his family obviously beat him.

“For all the good it did. I never even learned his name.” Kade ground his teeth in anger. “I don’t even know who he is.”

“The boy, did you see about his neck?” Bowman asked, looking towards the keep.

“His neck, what are you talking about?” Kade snapped with more anger than he meant. Luckily, Bowman was used to his black moods.

“He wore a seer’s medallion, with a gold star. The boy is a seer and a powerful one to rate a gold star.” Bowman shook his head, pushing his lanky blond hair back from his face.

“A seer, impossible, he was only a child.” Kade protested but he knew better than to doubt Bowman’s words. Bowman was as sharp-sighted as a hawk, but for a child to rate a gold star was unimaginable. In Ansgar seers and witches were required by law to wear medallions about their necks marking them as such, to not wear a medallion was considered a great crime and punishable by imprisonment or the lash. The power of the fey was ranked; the weakest wore stars of plain white, the most powerful gold or diamond. But there had been no fey to wear a diamond in Kade’s memory, none had been powerful enough to rate it. That a child wore a gold star meant he had to be powerful indeed. Yet what good did the power do the boy if he was beaten and treated little better than a slave. Kade looked away into the garden composing himself, he knew what it was like to be a slave. His own father had sold him at the age of ten to another lord who had treated him little better than an animal. When he was calm again he nodded to Bowman.

“Come, I’ll buy you an ale, I think we could both use one.” Bowman slapped him on the back. Kade knew Bowman was right, but it still ate at him that he could do nothing to help the boy. “You can’t save everyone, no matter how much you wish.”

“Aye, I know, but I shall wonder now what became of the boy.” Kade shook his head, trying to clear the image of the boy’s big blue eyes from his mind. “You’re right. I can’t save everyone, come I could use that ale after all.”