Chapter 9 – Fallen in Sacrifice
If there was a guiding angel right here
I'd ask her to whisper in my ear.
She might know the rising truth
she might know an answer or two on this cold night…
- Cold Nights by Subdudes
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Following several moments of berating Andrew, Spike stormed from his chambers before his younger brother could respond. Drained from the day’s events, Spike entered his chambers and brusquely dismissed the servant waiting for him there. Once the chambers’ door closed, and after releasing a long sigh, he sat down heavily on his big, soft bed. Spike noticed after several moments, the bed felt softer than usual. It appeared the servant had prepared for the colder nights ahead by covering his master's bed with furs.
Spike’s gaze moved through the room, before it fixed on the flames dancing across the wood lining the fireplace. He was exhausted.
The talk he had with Anya earlier hadn’t really helped him in the way of relieving the tightening in his chest. It seemed like the feeling lodged inside him and no matter what he thought about or planned to do next, it remained. This was the reason he fled the dungeons earlier. That and the look on the girl’s face as he stepped into her cell. Nothing seemed right anymore.
Closing his eyes, Spike, with utter frustration, scrubbed his face with his hands, before pressing the soles against his weary eyes. But no matter the pressure, the image behind his closed eyelids remained the same.
He found her beautiful. Enticing. Her flawless, smooth white skin was calling to him, even covered in all the filth. Her body beckoned his fingers to touch her everywhere. He even found her red-rimmed eyes alluring.… Was she crying? If she was, it was a good thing for her to do so. However, without any witnesses, the act itself was futile. Christ, how confusing was it all.
He stood up and shed his clothes, letting them fall to the ground carelessly, revealing his naked body to the flickering orange light of the fire. He strode, comfortable in his nudity, to the basin filled with water that his chambermaid prepared for him. Slowly, he washed the dust and sweat off his neck, face, and armpits. When he finished, he placed his hands on each side of the basin, which offered him support as he leaned forward tiredly, his head bowed. Tiny droplets dripped down his face, falling into the water below. Opening his eyes, he glared at his reflection in the mirror above the basin. ‘’Stop thinking about her, you wanker!’’ he told himself in a huff.
Angrily, he grabbed the cloth that was folded neatly in the front of the basin. Drying himself off, he angrily balled the material before throwing it at the wall in agitation.
It would do him no good to think about anything right at this moment.
Spike headed toward his bed, even though he was fully aware that he felt too flustered to find any peaceful rest. Sliding under the furs, he closed his eyes and tried to sleep. He hoped this evening the blonde residing in the dungeons below would not be haunting his dreams as she seemed to do for the past few nights.
Alas, he had no such luck. From the minute deep sleep claimed him, he found himself at the foot of the stairs to that old church in the woods. With these being his memories, he knew soon he would be assaulted by his gruesome discoveries.
It finally stopped raining. He’d rode with two other men toward some small hut in the woods, excitement filling his chest at the mere thought of finally finishing the task set forth.
Earlier that evening, Willy the barkeeper, told his soldiers where to find what they were looking for, he suggested they should first search one specific place. He was even eager to give them directions of the location, which Spike found odd. He will have to question the slimy little weasel later on and see how the man obtained such information in the first place. Only the one they sought for months now would have known such a secret. The murderer.
Since Spike knew Willy was not as stupid as he appeared to be, he did not include him on the suspect list. No murderer would expose themselves so foolishly, not to well known William the Bloody.
Of course, the thought of Willy trying to outsmart him, also entered Spike’s mind. Attempting to throw them off his scent by exposing himself, could actually work… Only, Spike knew Willy was not ‘that’ smart.
Nevertheless, Willy was in for some explaining once all this was over. He could still be one of the accomplices, trying to appear helpful and innocent. Anything could be possible in this situation.
Once his soldiers found the place, confirming it indeed did exist, they called for him. Spike had been delighted by the progress they seemed to have finally made, and at once he mounted his black steed and rode toward the location, accompanied with couple of men, to meet his soldiers.
They were waiting for his orders in the shadows of trees with a tiny hut, existing between them.
Spike tilted his head as he assessed it. It was really small, already rotting at some places, doomed to fall apart with the first blanket of snow that was bound to come soon. Being this small, it had to be one-roomed as it was quite often found among poor. His castle seemed so big in comparison.
Spike dismounted and walked fearlessly to the only door, his men lighting the way he walked with torches. He slid his sword from its sheath, and pushed on the wood. The door swung open, and instantly he was almost sorry he had done so.
The air wafting from inside was foul and made him pause for a moment. He signaled his men to follow him inside with torches, though only two more could fit in the enclosed space.
Once the two torches lit the small room, his eyes found the source of the smell. Sprawled on the floor was the body of a woman. Or, more accurately, what was left of her.
The stench was almost unbearable, but the hardened warriors had seen and smelled such things before and refused to step out.
Not one suggested the Lord should go out to get fresh air. They all knew him too well.
Spike noticed the windows were shuttered tightly and moved to open them. His men followed his lead and did so with the two other windows, letting the fresher air to come in the small tomb-like space.
Spike felt confused. Why would Willy direct them to this place? So they could find it and bury the woman, who died at home?
Once the foul air seemed to clear, Spike began to speak. ‘’Do not touch anything. Everyone out.’’
Before they left, he grabbed the torch from one of them and stepped closer to the body, lifting the flames up so he could see better. He quickly assessed the damages on her flesh. After several moments of eyeing the body, he could tell instantly the state was not from natural decay.
The filthy corpse was naked. Spike noticed the skin was discolored in some places, in others the flesh was gone completely with the bones exposed. In these areas, the flesh appeared to have been savagely torn away. Spike wondered why the body was covered in filth, knowing the hardened dirt-floor was not the cause of this. He contemplated maybe she had been dragged through the mud.
Despite the state of her flesh, he noticed dozens of deep crisscrossed markings, obviously done with something sharp, littering her body. A dagger most likely. If the amount of blood on the floor beside it could be any sign, the blood loss would have been the cause of her death. Inspecting her closer, Spike noticed a ring adorning her middle finger.
After assessing the woman before him, Spike lifted the torch to further explore the room. A few meters away on the small bed were a pile of clothes. Spike knew instantly that the finery that laid on the bed did not belong to the owner of this hut, and they were most likely the dead woman’s.
Once his assessment was complete, he straightened and exited the hut, gladly breathing in the crisp air.
Thinking back of the ring and the clothes, Spike knew this hut was not hers; the woman inside was one of substance. With this thought, another came forward. “If this was not her home, was this the home of the murder?” The unfortunate woman was probably lured into this place and murdered, most likely outside the hut, if the dirt was any indication…
Bending down, Spike used the torch to light his way as he inspected the ground for any sign of blood, but he saw none. Either the murderer swept it away, hiding it from his eyes, or it was too dark to see properly. In addition, the earlier rains could have washed it away as well.
Bloody hell.
Nonetheless, Spike had to secure the place for him to further investigate during the morning light, when he would be able to see more clearly. ‘’John and Dorian, you two shall stay and guard the place till morn. Do not let anyone pass without immediately arresting them for questioning, understood?’’
The two named soldiers stepped forward, nodding and bowing following their approach. Spike handed his torch to one of the soldiers, in order to mount his steed. Once he was seated, the solider handed Spike the torch before falling back with the other men. ‘’The rest, follow me. We shall end this tonight. It’s been going on for far too soddin’ long and the bastard shall pay the price with his life.’’
Roughly digging his heels into the horse’s flank, the steed rose in the air, kicking its feet. Spike pulled the reins tighter and turned it around as they rode quickly on, his men hot on his heels.
The men silently followed Spike’s lead through the woods, until they finally saw what they were looking for. The forest opened up to a meadow with long grass and dotted with forgotten wooden crosses and headstones, some too old for them to be able reading letters etched upon the stone. In the middle of it all stood an old church with long thick vines embracing its old walls. Eyeing the place, an unexpected thought came to Spike’s mind that Nature had claimed this place as its own.
Once situated in front of the church, all the men dismounted and approached the entrance. With a raised hand, Spike commanded his soldiers to halt before the wooden doors that appeared they were recently opened, almost violently so. The splinters littering the ground before the entrance seemed to be clear evidence of a forceful act.
Following a nod, the soldiers proceeded to push open the damaged doors. They gave away quickly, and the men were greeted by the silence and darkness inside. As they entered with their torches lifted high, the paintings lining the walls and the stained-glass windows were illuminated by the flames. With another silent command, Spike lifted his fist, causing his men to spread throughout the place immediately. As more torches entered the old building, the more they could see around.
They stepped carefully toward the dais, dozens of heavy boots echoing loudly through the place. Then they all stopped as one, transfixed by the sight before them.
The cross on the altar was inverted. Clearly, in mockery of God. A dark substance, resembling encrusted blood, was spread upon it coloring the old rotten wood almost black. Some of Spike’s men, filled with fear and sudden dread, quickly made the sign of the cross.
What unholy place was this?
Then they saw something else. Right beneath the cross laid a body. Another one this night, Spike thought sadly. The cross threw a dark shadow over her body when one soldier passed behind the unholy sign with a torch. They all quieted when an unusual a soft, whimpering sigh was heard.
Spike strode quickly to the girl lying before him. Kneeling, he pressed his ear to her exposed chest. Following her strong heartbeats and steady breaths filling his ears, he was instantly filled with relief.
She was alive… and lucky to be so!
He carefully scooped her up on his lap, and cradled her head while, her golden hair spilled over his knees in tangled curls. They sparkled in the firelight, immediately drawing his gaze. Spike probed her body for any injuries and stopped briefly as soon as he saw her wince at the contact once he reached her head. She had a lump on the back of it, causing her to whimper and flinch when he passed over it with his fingers.
‘’S allrigh’, pet. You’re safe now,’’ he murmured gently.
While Spike was tending to this woman, his men continued searching the room. The thought that at least one was spared and saved kept on repeating in his mind. No matter her titles or class. She was alive.
Spike’s hardened feelings were in shock that this little thing meant so much to him. But it did. It also meant that they were one step closer to the acts of murderer. The bleedin’ bastard had to be still around here somewhere…
Spike was broken from his thoughts when she whimpered in pain once more. To calm her, he began murmuring calming words to her.
From the moment her eyes opened, and he was met with her mossy green orbs, he felt completely lost.
Spike shook his head when her eyes fell shut once more. When her body became lax in his arms, he knew she was unconscious. ‘’No, open your eyes, pet. It’s no good that you sleep,’’ he murmured again.
‘’My Lord, We have found something.’’
When she opened her eyes again, he lifted his gaze to Luke, who was standing before him. ‘’What did you find? Is the bastard gone?’’
Spike’s voice resembled an animal’s growl when he questioned the man through clenched teeth. “Soddin’ coward! The wanker attacked the one weak girl but at the sight of men fled like a rabbit”.
The man shook his head. ‘’I do not know my Lord. Some of the men are checking the grounds as we speak. But there is something else you might find of interest.’’ He pointed toward another wooden door located on the side of the room. Spike assumed this may be where the priests usually placed their treasured things.
‘’Yes, what is it?’’
He looked down once more as the girl moaned in her slumber, so he quickly patted her cheek lightly to wake her up again. His eyes focused on something odd then, and just as Luke spoke, Spike froze.
‘’We found another body, my Lord, in that chamber. It is… was the priest. We do not know his identity. Also, there are two incisions on his neck, resembling a bite, but much too small for any animal we know that resides in these forests—“
As the man talked on, Spike’s gaze was still focused on one thing. Her lips were smeared with blood, which at first confused him. But then it all suddenly shone with a glaring clarity.
She was the one.
He held a murderer right here, in his arms. Not a victim, but a murderess, lying on his lap now, once more unconscious.
He stood up, not caring as she slid from his lap and landed on the floor roughly. Leaving her on the cold stone floor, Spike watched her in utter shock.
This beautiful, but dangerous monster had been eluding them all for months now. She hid behind her pretty and innocent looking features, most likely fooling all she had known. A wolf in sheep’s clothing. The perfect predator.… He wagered even the priest must have thought she had been a little angel… letting her lure him into his own demise.
For the first time in his life, Spike believed that he found a real witch.
Spike woke up with a start. He was sweating and breathing hard. The memories were gruesome and the little details disgusted him to no end. It helped a bit to see it all again though, for one thing felt wrong this time… a few things actually.
How could such a tiny, half starved woman do such things, when the task required the strength of a man? There were no stab wounds visible on the backs of the victims that they have found, which meant that the victims and murderer stood face to face. This wasn’t a surprise attack, and since there were no defense wounds, the victims must have been instantly overpowered by their attacker. They were overpowered even though all the victims appeared to have been stronger and well fed. Clearly they could have easily defended themselves against the petite form of his captive. Even some women victims were in a better condition than her.
Also, no jewelry was missing from the dead upperclassmen they found. Such a starved creature, like Buffy Summers, could use some money, would she not?
But still, her bloodstained lips, the body in her hut and no other injury on her but the one on the back of her head, which was explained away by some drunken man at Willy’s when he bragged that he stopped a witch in the forest from her Unholy Sabbath.
Apparently the drunkard was who Willy got his information from.
The strange thing was, Willy could not describe the man boasting, though. He only was able to say the man wore a hood that completely hid his features from sight…
Could she not be guilty? Was he too fast in condemning the woman just so he could make an end to this all?
Then who is the real murderer, if she is not? And why did the murdered victims stopped appearing as soon as they arrested her?
Spike had a strong feeling that the man hiding behind the hood from Willy’s Tavern knew more.
Spike tossed and turned, trying to envision anything else, other than the tiny little blonde girl he held in his arms at the church that night, and again in the dungeon just night before.
The dungeon… She’s probably cold and…
Before Spike would let his thoughts go any further, he jerked the furs off himself and stood. The embers in a fireplace were still strong enough in order to stoke them into flames.
When the fire was blazing once more, Spike started to pace restlessly near it, his hands clasped behind his back. Various thoughts were running wildly through his mind. Something… no, the whole thing felt a bit… off.
Anya advised him to keep on doing what he does best.
He paused in his step. “Do what I do best?”
Yes, sounds like an easy enough thing to do, but not in this situation. He needed answers, and he needs them before the head priest of the Church Council arrives and screws everything up. The day of her trial is fast approaching.
His mind made up, Spike hastily put his clothes back on. It was still dark outside, and even the servants still slept, but he could hold it inside no longer.
It was time he heads down to the dungeons once more to talk to his beautiful captive.
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Buffy awoke from her nightmare, shaking all over and drenched in sweat. Her body ached, still under influence of the memories she tried so hard to suppress.
The dull pain in her abdomen had faded as the days passed, but the memory caused it to ache nonetheless. She pulled her hands around herself in self-embrace, feeling horribly alone. God, she needed her mother. It is all she’d nee—
A silent sob got caught in her throat, the moment she heard footsteps.
Heavy footsteps.
She immediately knew it was not the nice servant that had brought her a blanket.
Buffy quickly shed the item off and tucked it under the prickly straws of hay, praying it would be enough to hide it. Quickly, she situated herself to lie down once more. Keeping herself very still, she heard the familiar footsteps come to a stop at her cell doors.
There was silence once more, thick and uncomfortable as ever, and she just knew who exactly was there. She could feel him watching her. Buffy pretended she was still asleep, even with the back of her neck prickling as it did every time he was near. She hoped he would eventually walk away.
Even with all her prayers, she knew he would be back, obviously sooner than she had thought. With this arrival, anxiety coiled tight within her chest.
The cell door finally creaked open and she jumped, startled by the sudden disturbance in silence. There was no point in pretending she was asleep anymore, so she slowly opened her eyes and sat up.
Indeed, Lord Rayne was there, watching her again.
She waited if he’d say something… anything to break the tangible silence. Regardless of her unspoken pleas, he remained eerily quiet, while his gorgeous face was blank of any emotions, like always.
Yes, of course she’d find his features beautiful. Who would not? The time with his younger brother allowed for her to observe and think about every line and curve of their faces that she could compare and recognize them mutual in shape.
His younger brother Andrew looked upon her with warmer eyes though.
‘’M-my Lord…’’ she tried speaking, her voice raspy with lack of use. Despite her words, he remained standing before her, his gaze unnerving her. His brow furrowed once he heard her, though.
Here was her chance now, to make him understand, to make him see that she was innocent.
So, why was there no sound when she opened her lips to speak? She had to tell him that he’d locked up the wrong person, just like she had told his younger brother earlier. She can still remember the shock as young Andrew told her of the crimes she is accused of.
Even though her mind was screaming with the words, her mouth was dry and she was unable to form them. Why was it so much easier to talk to Andrew?
This silence continued on as she studied him. Her eyes drank in his features: his sharp cheekbones, his summer-blue eyes and his Adam’s apple which appeared to be bobbing in his throat. Was he-- nervous? She looked down briefly, quickly making sure her breasts were not exposed to his unfaltering gaze. Gratefully, they were not.
She took a deep breath, while focusing her gaze on the floor at his feet.
‘’L-lord Rayne…’’ she tried again, with tentativeness, her gaze rose. There went her courage.
The man standing in front of her, obviously enjoying her befuddled and hesitant expression, shook his head before the expression on his face changed from an emotionless canvas to a one filled with arrogance. His full lips framed by a growing smirk. He looked pleased and a bit surprised, probably due to the fact that she knew his name. He was, after all, not the one to enlighten her with this information.
She could only hope he hadn’t misunderstood her knowledge for something witched-like.
‘’Call me Spike, luv.’’
Removing a silver-pointed stake from the belt of his completely black attire, Spike twirled it in his hand as he continued, ‘’After all, we shall be acquainted quite intimately soon.’’
She blanched at the mention of his self given name. The hungry teeth of pure panic and terror started to nibble along her spine.
Spike? As in, William the Bloody… Spike?
Oh no…
The name William the Bloody was well known among people in the town. Only, the moniker Spike was even more famous. Rumors circling among the towns people about the particular methods of the person bearing this name were gruesome and horrible. The only people that had ever met the man called Spike, or William the Bloody, in person, were dead. Their acquaintances, undoubtedly, were linked with their deaths. He was not known by his kindness, not at all… oh, God.
She followed the gleaming spike in his hand with wide eyes, watching intently its spinning movements, enthralled. She was very well aware of its use. He had described it to her before, hasn’t he? The very reason, why he used the moniker ‘Spike’ was now obvious to her.
God, was he really planning on using that on her as well. To, to…prod, and…and...
She saw the loving way he eyed his weapon of torture, then a slight frown marring his handsome face when he scratched something off of it with a nail of his thumb— probably dried blood - …
… She was going to be sick again. Of course he would use it!
‘’Lord R-Rayne,’’ she tried again, her voice cracking with fear and disuse, but she continued uttering in desperation, needing to save herself. ‘’I-It was not m-me who did it. I s-swe-‘’
‘’Be quiet now, pet. I need not to hear your words, for they would only infuriate me further. Which would be unwise to do right now, after all. You shall only answer to my questions, otherwise you stay silent, understood?’’
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Spike twirled his weapon of torture skillfully in his hand, feeling almost nervous in her presence. When he saw her frightened eyes following its movements, he tucked it away.
That apparently gave her enough courage to speak. Despite his anger, her words continued to flow unchecked once they began.
He was not used to any disobedience, especially from his prisoners.
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Buffy had had enough.
‘’I shall not be quiet anymore, sir! I demand of you to let me speak, for my words would hold nothing but a truth!
’’I’ve been lured to some abhorred place in this world and then escaped barely with my life intact, only to be tormented further when I received none of the protection at the Holy grounds of the church. Even there I was treated horribly until you have found me. Alas, you were not the savior I had wished for, since I was tormented further, once I regained my consciousness. I demand of you to-’’
She hadn’t even noticed the raging red spots coloring his neck and ears. He was absolutely enraged; the booming sound of his voice filling the cell startled her.
‘’You demand of me to what, girl? Do you forget your place suddenly? You are here, in this cell, convicted of doing atrocious things, and you have the audacity to yell at me? The man who has all the power over you to sentence you to your death?’’
When Spike gulped much needed air into his lungs, Buffy took this opportunity to speak of her innocence once more.
‘’I have told you, sir, I have no hand in those murders or in witchcraft. I shall not let you to further accuse me of doing something I haven’t done and have no knowledge of!’’
Regardless of the distractions of his angel-like voice and his luring devil appearance, Buffy felt powerful, with all her fear gone, as she finally disclosed the truth.
The fact that she was but a lowly peasant, yelling at the powerful man who held the strings of her life in his hands, hadn’t even once entered her mind that was overflowing with wild emotions. God, how he infuriated her at this moment… If he could just listen to her! Lord or no Lord!
‘’You have to see the truth in all this, and while you hold me here against my will and completely guiltless of all the crimes, the real slaughterer is out there, walking free!’’
Buffy rose from her position among the straw while she spoke, and stepped toward him, all the while her voice filled with conviction. Now, they stood nose to nose, both breathing heavily.
Breaking their gaze first, Spike lowered his eyes to her lips and remained there. Her breathing increased while she watched his gaze darken to a different kind of stormy blue.
What was he thinking about?
Then, without any rhyme or reason, Lord Rayne grasped her by the shoulders. Without a word, he leaned in toward her, his eyes closed and his lips hovering, only mere inches away, from hers.
Before she could question his behavior, she was silenced and her eyes widened in shock as his soft lips descended upon hers.
TBC...
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Author's Chapter Notes:
Updating once more with a delay. My mind was not in a nice place for the past few days and I was unhappy with the chapter. But, here it is finally. I hope you will like it.
!Thank you! Pam S, Behind Blue Eyes and Vette, for reviewing the last chapter... believe it or not, the feedback means alot :)
ALSO, you all might notice the NEW BANNER - it is beautiful isn't it?? The big thanks goes to Vette for making it for me! Luv ya, sweets! You made my day!
Any grammar mistakes are unintentional, but please be kind and point them to me. Thank you. edit: This chapter was edited with help of dear Behind Blue Eyes - you made it readable and I loved your ideas! Thank you again, sweets!
!Thank you! Pam S, Behind Blue Eyes and Vette, for reviewing the last chapter... believe it or not, the feedback means alot :)
ALSO, you all might notice the NEW BANNER - it is beautiful isn't it?? The big thanks goes to Vette for making it for me! Luv ya, sweets! You made my day!
Any grammar mistakes are unintentional, but please be kind and point them to me. Thank you. edit: This chapter was edited with help of dear Behind Blue Eyes - you made it readable and I loved your ideas! Thank you again, sweets!
Chapter End Notes:
How was it? the story still worth reading? Let me know please, doesn't matter if the review is brief...