The Conqueror by The Conqueror (NCP)

Author:The Conqueror (NCP) [(NCP), The Conqueror]
Format: epub
Published: 2010-01-07T07:03:34+00:00

* * * *

Hugh sat back in his high-backed embroidered chair and examined his knuckles for any damage. There was only redness lingering slightly. Margaret was in her chamber, barely clinging to life after her punishment. Blood from the melee still stained the floor, ready to be cleaned by one of the servants. Crimson puddles of ooze stretching out in dark red fingers in the spaces between the stones, congealing quickly in the cool air.

Colors and properties of the blood never ceased to amaze him. Life's blood was the essential fluid of life, carrying all the necessary elements to keep a body living. Yet, when the vital fluid was lost, the properties changed from one of giving life to one of taking vitality away. Who decided this was the way things should be?

A strong, masculine voice pierced his thoughts. “Milord, we are ready to start for Ravenwood. Do you wish to accompany us?”

Hugh turned to see his guards ready for battle. Swords, battle axes and maces were strapped onto the burly men, their expertise for using the weapons unmatched. He grinned fiendishly. “Nay for I grow cold these days and wish to remain by the fire. When you bring the Duchess back, she is to be unharmed and I do mean unharmed. Do you understand me?

“Aye, milord. We should be back by midmorning with the Duchess.”

“Good. See that you do,” Hugh replied blankly, continuing to stare at the pond of blood on the floor. He was deeply fascinated with the way the flames danced upon the congealed pool. Vaguely Hugh was aware the guard had left his presence, his captain’s footsteps a dying echo around him.

In the whirling madness of his mind, Hugh delved deep into thought and continued to stare at the pool, dimly aware one of the servants arrived with a steaming bucket of water. Just as the servant was about to pour the water over it, Hugh suddenly became a man obsessed. “Leave it,” he commanded, his eyes never leaving the mess.

“But Milord, twill begin to foul the chamber....” the elderly woman protested, the bucket nearly overturned in her hands.

“I SAID LEAVE IT!” he shouted as he leapt from his chair. In doing so, the edge of his tunic caught on the lip of the chair. He glared at it with murderous intent, his anger getting the best of him. With a vicious yank, Hugh freed the garment but succeeded to rip his best tunic. He cared not. All he cared about was the blood remained where it was.

Grabbing the woman by the arms, he forced her to her feet. “When I give an order, I expect it to be obeyed! Would you like the punishment that was handed out to Margaret a short while ago?” he growled, thoroughly enjoying the frightened look upon the woman’s face. All servants should cower as this woman did.

“No, milord,” she mumbled, the trembling throughout her body became more intense.

Hugh loosened his grip on her frail shoulders. “Good. Now leave me for I do not wish to be disturbed the rest of the day,” he ordered then let her go.

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