The Dark One: Dark Knight Read Online Free PDF

they had suspected. This man was indeed the feared Dark Knight.
         And little wonder.  He was dressed from
head to toe in the most formidable plate armor she had ever seen, enlarging him
even more than he already was.  If it wasn’t shining armor, it was black
leather or mail.  This man was a warrior the likes of which Remington had never
seen.
         Yet it was far more than merely the colors
he wore; it was his presence.  The simple act of living and breathing
conveyed a world of foreboding and fear.  Blind obedience was the only way to
survive.
         Gaston flicked his wrist and knights began
to charge past her and on into the bailey, but Gaston remained still, absorbing
the activity.  The sky above was growing threatening and the wind was vicious,
caressing her with icy fingers. Remington watched the strange, fearsome men
riding into her ward, fighting the urge to hug herself against the wind.  She
would not allow the Dark Knight to see any weakness in her, or any show of her
inner emotions. Over her shoulder, she could feel the weighty gaze of him and a
chill ran up her spine.  Involuntarily, she shivered from both the stare and
the cold.
         My God, what have I done ?  A strange
sense of despair swept her and she felt the distinct taste of hopelessness. 
Should she have tried to hold him off, but for what purpose?  She had not the
men to maintain a strong defense and she knew everyone would have been killed
trying to fight off Henry’s knight.  The lives of her people were worth more to
her than maintaining the sovereignty of the keep that had shown her nothing but
grief.
         “Return to the keep, Lady Stoneley,” came
his voice from behind her, gravelly and deep so that it shook the very ground
she stood upon.  “I will speak with you at a later time.”
         Remington couldn’t get away from him fast
enough. It began to rain as she crossed the drawbridge, messing her surcoat and
pelting her face with chilly droplets.  Behind her, she could hear the
unmistakable hollow sounds of hoof-falls as they crossed the bridge.  It would
seem that the Dark Knight was intending to follow her into the bailey.
         Remington was bewildered and depressed by
the activity in the bailey. The Dark One’s knights had whipped the aged
men-at-arms into a frenzy and they were climbing the ladders to the catwalks on
the walls with an energy she had never seen before from them.  Fear was a
potent drug, indeed, and she felt so guilty.  She had allowed the knights into
the keep and she told everyone there was no use in resisting the inevitable. 
She could only pray that the old soldiers did not break their necks or have
chest pains as a result of her philosophy.  Already, they were suffering.
         Her sisters, Charles, and Dane had
disappeared into the castle, but Remington refused to go.  She stood on the
stone steps, watching de Russe and his men systematically clear the bailey and
the towers.  They moved like great cats stalking mice, leaving no door
unopened, no crevice unchecked.  De Russe himself checked the two great wall
towers before descending the ladder, satisfied no one lay in wait for his army.
With a few barked words, two of his men remounted their chargers and tore from
the bailey to signal the waiting troops.
         Remington watched the Dark Knight
intently.  He never raised his voice, never made a sharp movement, but he did
not have to. He had the fear and respect from his men without such devices. She
found it difficult to comprehend that a person could radiate so much power and
presence.  It was as if de Russe was beyond a mere mortal and therefore
entitled to the respect men reserved for gods.
         Aye, she was frightened of him, but she was
also fascinated.  Curious, utter fascination. And all of this before she had
even seen his face.
         Before she realized it, he was standing in
front of her and she startled, gazing up at him with