Sweet Revenge Part 5 Will/Adhemar A Knight's Tale Slash Rated R
Adhemar tries to lure Will. Will does his best to be lured. Jocelyn decides to help.
Sweet Revenge
Part 5
To anyone's eye, Adhemar was occupied with matters befitting a man of his station. A map was unrolled before him. His fingers traced its lines, pictured what they represented - things that could be conquered, owned, marked as his, used - things of importance. The map might have been drawn on Thatcher's living skin, tanned where the skin took the sun, pale where it lay hidden. No issue was so important that remembering that commoner's touch couldn't distract Adhemar. As if Thatcher were his all important concern and everything else a trifle.
Adhemar’s hands clenched. He wanted to rip the map to pieces, but it would not rid him of the intruding thoughts. He knew that. How often had he indulged in bursts of violence to set his mind aright? Strike out, even kill, and be calmed for mere moments. Experience had taught him it was useless. His hands twisted, empty. Forced patience would serve him until Thatcher was in his hands. His hands spread over the map. Thatcher in his hands…
So far, Thatcher had not appeared in the flesh. It was too soon for that. And Adhemar could not rest until he was dealt with.
The heavy door slammed open as Jocelyn entered. Adhemar refused to look up from the map he was no longer examining.
"Where is he?" she demanded.
"What have you misplaced now, my lady? Your virtue? No, that's long gone," Adhemar told her, cold as a stone. Her fury worked to calm his own.
"There will be no end to your misery if..." Jocelyn began to threaten.
Adhemar looked thoughtful before he interrupted her.
"It should more rightly be your William. After all, he opened the door to this sliding down into muck. What's next? Lying down with beasts?" he asked her finally looking at her fully. His voice had not betrayed his anger, but his eyes did. Joselyn didn't back down from his stare.
"I reached my lowest when I lay down with you. You are a monster."
"Then I should act like one," he told her, still speaking coldly but looking as if he were a furnace, black and burning with a strictly contained fire. He stood up and walked past her, out the door.
"If you find yourself wanting something..."
Adhemar's last words were a constant noise in his ears. William rode fast, but the hooves against the ground and the wind whipping past his ears wouldn't shut them up. Once in town, his progress was slowed. Narrow streets and people milling about spent his patience. By the time he reached the church, his patience was gone. William stomped toward Joselyn. She had come to meet him. Now she looked startled, like he surprised her with his approach.
"Where has he taken him?" William asked her, not hiding his anger.
"I don't know." She in turn did not hide her worry.
"I can't go riding the countryside, storming every castle and tower Adhemar has got a claim to. What the hell good is it being married to the man if you can't find out where in Hell he's taken your lover?!" William yelled.
"Your tone, William," she said in a low, controlled voice of an offended lady, then she cried out, "I can't find out, William, because he doesn't want me to know! He wants to torment me."
She looked around herself, but she didn't see the few people who stared at her. It was a blind look searching for a something that wasn't there.
"What have I done?" she asked herself.
"You've... All right. We'll find him. We'll find him," William said. He reached out his hand but didn't touch her.
It wasn't just her, though, was it. Adhemar had given him a message in person, spilled it right in his ear. William was the animal Adhemar was trying to snare.
"Where is Adhemar now?" William asked.
Jocelyn couldn't tell him. William guessed that Adhemar was now with Wat. That meant that he had no time. William thought back to his days of imprisonment. He closed his eyes and saw Wat helpless, foolish and helpless.
Adhemar's touch had been cruel then, how much more dangerous it was now.
"I’ve done something," Jocelyn said in the tone of a confession.
"I'd say."
"To get Wat back. I've sent for Chaucer."
"What's he gonna do about it?"
She didn't tell him. William didn't wait around to find out how a poet was going to wrest a varlet from a madman.
to be continued
Sweet Revenge
Part 5
To anyone's eye, Adhemar was occupied with matters befitting a man of his station. A map was unrolled before him. His fingers traced its lines, pictured what they represented - things that could be conquered, owned, marked as his, used - things of importance. The map might have been drawn on Thatcher's living skin, tanned where the skin took the sun, pale where it lay hidden. No issue was so important that remembering that commoner's touch couldn't distract Adhemar. As if Thatcher were his all important concern and everything else a trifle.
Adhemar’s hands clenched. He wanted to rip the map to pieces, but it would not rid him of the intruding thoughts. He knew that. How often had he indulged in bursts of violence to set his mind aright? Strike out, even kill, and be calmed for mere moments. Experience had taught him it was useless. His hands twisted, empty. Forced patience would serve him until Thatcher was in his hands. His hands spread over the map. Thatcher in his hands…
So far, Thatcher had not appeared in the flesh. It was too soon for that. And Adhemar could not rest until he was dealt with.
The heavy door slammed open as Jocelyn entered. Adhemar refused to look up from the map he was no longer examining.
"Where is he?" she demanded.
"What have you misplaced now, my lady? Your virtue? No, that's long gone," Adhemar told her, cold as a stone. Her fury worked to calm his own.
"There will be no end to your misery if..." Jocelyn began to threaten.
Adhemar looked thoughtful before he interrupted her.
"It should more rightly be your William. After all, he opened the door to this sliding down into muck. What's next? Lying down with beasts?" he asked her finally looking at her fully. His voice had not betrayed his anger, but his eyes did. Joselyn didn't back down from his stare.
"I reached my lowest when I lay down with you. You are a monster."
"Then I should act like one," he told her, still speaking coldly but looking as if he were a furnace, black and burning with a strictly contained fire. He stood up and walked past her, out the door.
"If you find yourself wanting something..."
Adhemar's last words were a constant noise in his ears. William rode fast, but the hooves against the ground and the wind whipping past his ears wouldn't shut them up. Once in town, his progress was slowed. Narrow streets and people milling about spent his patience. By the time he reached the church, his patience was gone. William stomped toward Joselyn. She had come to meet him. Now she looked startled, like he surprised her with his approach.
"Where has he taken him?" William asked her, not hiding his anger.
"I don't know." She in turn did not hide her worry.
"I can't go riding the countryside, storming every castle and tower Adhemar has got a claim to. What the hell good is it being married to the man if you can't find out where in Hell he's taken your lover?!" William yelled.
"Your tone, William," she said in a low, controlled voice of an offended lady, then she cried out, "I can't find out, William, because he doesn't want me to know! He wants to torment me."
She looked around herself, but she didn't see the few people who stared at her. It was a blind look searching for a something that wasn't there.
"What have I done?" she asked herself.
"You've... All right. We'll find him. We'll find him," William said. He reached out his hand but didn't touch her.
It wasn't just her, though, was it. Adhemar had given him a message in person, spilled it right in his ear. William was the animal Adhemar was trying to snare.
"Where is Adhemar now?" William asked.
Jocelyn couldn't tell him. William guessed that Adhemar was now with Wat. That meant that he had no time. William thought back to his days of imprisonment. He closed his eyes and saw Wat helpless, foolish and helpless.
Adhemar's touch had been cruel then, how much more dangerous it was now.
"I’ve done something," Jocelyn said in the tone of a confession.
"I'd say."
"To get Wat back. I've sent for Chaucer."
"What's he gonna do about it?"
She didn't tell him. William didn't wait around to find out how a poet was going to wrest a varlet from a madman.
to be continued