Evon got a good look at Havilland, or at least as much as he could with all of the dirt and leaves on her face and hair. “Havilland?” he repeated, surprised. “I’ve not seen Havilland in ten years. God’s Bones, she’s beautiful. What was she doing following you?”
“She left the castle and I wanted to see where she was going,” Havilland answered the question, twisting and grunting beneath him. “’Tis not safe outside of the walls of the castle!”
Evon nodded. “That is a very true statement,” he said. Suddenly, he stood up and yanked Havilland to her feet. He’d nearly broken her arm by the way he was twisting her around, now still causing her pain on the same arm as he yanked it. “So you were following your sister, eh? Now it looks like I have an important hostage to take to Madog’s men.”
Havilland, in pain and angry, was still trying to fight against him. “You are mad,” she hissed. “Let me go, you fool.”
Evon reached out to push some of her dark hair away, revealing her sweet face and lush lips. He grunted. “She’ll make a fine prize,” he muttered, looking her over. “In fact, I’ll be able to sell her to the highest bidder. Have you been plundered, girl?”
Havilland was increasingly horrified with what she was hearing. “Plundered?” she repeated. “What does that mean?”
Evon had a lazy smile on his face. “Touched,” he said. “Has a man touched that silken skin?”
Now she was disgusted as well as horrified. “That is none of your affair,” she said. Then, she looked at Madeline. “Where were you going, Madeline? And why is Evon here waiting for you? Answer me!”
Madeline was standing a few feet away, a shocked look on her face. She was completely unlike the arrogant, aggressive girl they had all known. She looked cornered and scared.
“I… I…,” she stammered, swallowed, and started again. “It is not like that, Havi. Evon and I love each other. We want to marry.”
Disbelief filled Havilland’s features. “Marry?” she spat with disgust. “Madeline, what have you done? Why were you meeting Evon in secret?”
As Madeline struggled to come up with an answer, Evon spoke. “Because Madeline believes as I believe,” he said. “We believe castles in Wales should be ruled by the Welsh. The English have no place here. Madeline his helping restore our country to us.”
Havilland’s heart sank. So she is the spy! Less panicked and more distraught, Havilland focused on her sister. “Is this true?” she asked hoarsely. “Is that why they have been able to beat us down over the past few months? Because you have been telling them our weaknesses?”
Madeline met her sister’s gaze but couldn’t seem to bring herself to speak. Everything in her expression rang of shock, now joined by sorrow and defiance. Evon, seeing the distress between the two sisters, answered for her.
“Your father is mad, Havilland,” he said. “Madeline has told me everything. A madman is in charge of Four Crosses and now his daughters are trying to defend it. Don’t you see? It is time to surrender the fortress to those it belongs to. Four Crosses never belonged to your family, Havilland. It belongs to the Welsh. This is our land.”
Sweet Jesú, it was true, all of it. The more Evon spoke, the more Havilland could see the scope of Madeline’s betrayal. She had to close her eyes against the knowledge that Madeline had told Evon about their father and the loss of his mind. Now all of the Welsh rebels knew, at least the ones that Evon had managed to tell. The illusion that Havilland had tried to keep up against the English had been shattered by the Welsh. They knew more than the English did now. She couldn’t have possibly felt any more betrayed than she did at this moment, knowing Madeline had told the Welsh all of their secrets. There was nothing left now.
Nothing left except Four Crosses.
Havilland wasn’t going to give in so easily. It wasn’t in her nature. The most difficult thing she ever had to do in her young life was realize her sister wasn’t to be trusted anymore. As of this moment, Madeline was the enemy. Had she not been so angry and disgusted, she would have wept over it.
But she had to get herself out of this predicament first. Time for weeping would be later.
“Then it seems we are at an impasse, Evon,” Havilland finally said, forcing down her sorrows and her fears. “If you would kindly let go of my arm, I promise not to run or fight. Let us speak as civilized people and not as enemies.”
Evon didn’t see any reason not to believe her. Besides, he was taller and faster than she was and he was quite certain she couldn’t outrun him. Letting go of her, he stepped away as she rubbed at her twisted arm. Evon kept the dagger in his hand, just in case he was forced to throw it at her. He wouldn’t miss.
“Now,” he said. “What did you wish to speak of? For certain, I am not in a position to negotiate Four Crosses with you. I will have to take you back to my encampment. You can discuss it with my leaders. Once they are finished with you, of course.”
It was a lewd comment and he laughed at it but Havilland stared at him without reacting. She couldn’t even bring herself to look at Madeline.
“I am not going back to your encampment,” she said flatly. “I will return to Four Crosses and you can take this discussion back to your leaders.”
Evon cocked his head. “Lady Havilland, you are my prisoner now,” he said. “I am sorry if I did not explain that to you sufficiently. You are returning with me to camp.”
“I am not.”
Evon lost the faint smirk on his face. “I assure you that you will not make it back to Four Crosses alive,” he said. “If you try, I will kill you. Then, Madeline will return and tell everyone that you accidentally fell into the river and drown. Your death would put Madeline in command for she tells me that she is second in command only to you. With Madeline in command, it will be a simple thing for her to make the decision to surrender the fortress. Then, when the English have been purged, Madeline and I will command Four Crosses together. Quite a tidy plan, actually.”
Havilland looked at Madeline, then. She couldn’t help it. She never thought she could hate her own flesh and blood so much.
“Is this true?” she asked. “Is this what you had planned?”
Madeline looked rather miserable. She looked at Evon for support in her reply but Havilland snapped at her.
“Look at me, Madeline de Llion,” she said, watching her sister turn to her, warily. So much pain and angst flared up between them, filling the very air with emotion. “I asked you a question. Is this what you had planned? To force the surrender of Four Crosses so that you and Evon could command together?”
Madeline was so very torn. She’d spent so much of the past year resenting her sister and hating her that now that the moment had come for her to truly dominate the woman, she was having a difficult time doing it.
Now, she was second-guessing everything, fearful that Evon truly intended to kill her sister. She didn’t know if she should take her sister’s side and try to help her get away or take Evon’s side and force Havilland to submit.
She made the coward’s choice.
“Just surrender the fortress, Havi,” she said, feeling resigned even as she said it. “He’ll not let you leave until you agree.”
Havilland felt as if she’d been stabbed in the gut by Madeline’s words. The defeat in her eyes was painful. “He’ll not let me leave, anyway,” she said. “Did you not hear him? He plans to throw me in the river and say that I drown or he’s going to take me back to his camp and sell me to the highest bidder.”
Madeline shook her head, looking to Evon. “You won’t do those things, will you?” she asked. “If she agrees to surrender the fortress, you will let her go?”
Evon frowned. “Why would I do that?” he said. “Listen to her; she told you what is going to happen to her. Even if she agrees to surrender the fortress now, I cannot let her go.”
“Why not?”
“Are you truly so stupid? She will tell everyone that you are a traitor.”
Madeline didn’t particula
rly like that idea but she didn’t want Havilland murdered because of it. She struggled to summon her courage against the man. “But you do not have to kill her or sell her,” she said. “Please. I ask you not to do that. She is my sister and….”
“And what?” Evon cut her off rudely. “All I have heard from you is what a terrible commander she is and how unfair it is that she is in command and not you. And now you defend her?”
“Please don’t kill her!”
Evon shook his head, turning to look at Havilland as she stood a few feet away. His eyes raked her. “She is very fine,” he said. “It is a pity to have to treat her as anything other than a fine lady, but I have no choice. Therefore, I will make the choice yours, Madeline – either I kill her and throw her in the river or I take her back to camp and sell her. What is your choice?”
Madeline was horrified. She looked at Havilland only to be met by her sister’s hateful glare. Madeline knew this was her fault, all of it, and her heart began to beat faster. Evon was putting her sister’s life in her hands but the truth was that she didn’t want to make that decision; she couldn’t make it. She didn’t want the responsibility now that she had it. Always wanting to be in command and hoping to be in command, was far different from actually having the power of the final decision.
Now, the power over Havilland was hers.
“You may as well kill me,” Havilland said as Madeline agonized. “I will not allow you to return me to your camp so you may as well kill me. I am not afraid to die.”
Evon’s gaze lingered on her, standing tall and proud. “I do not expect that you are,” he said. “But if that is your choice, so be it. Madeline is too much of a fool to make such a decision but you are not. I respect that. In fact, I….”
Havilland suddenly took off at a dead run, bolting back along the path in the direction of the castle. She was making her break for freedom, for help. She wasn’t simply going to stand around and let Evon kill her.
Evon, with a hissed curse, took off after her, closing the gap between them fairly swiftly. He was within several feet of her when someone came flying out of the bramble, hitting him so hard that he went tumbling down the small incline and straight into the icy river below. The man that had hit him was also coming down the incline, charging like a runaway herd of cattle, tearing up trees and bramble, and as Evon came up out of the water, gasping for air, the man pounced on top of him and pushed his head under water.
Evon never stood a chance.
Strength beyond human strength held Evon’s head down in the water as Jamison pinned the man on the shallow banks of the river, feeling the fight drain out of him. He’d been lurking in the bushes after following Havilland and Madeline down the narrow foot path. He soon realized that Havilland was in great danger when a man suddenly jumped out of the bushes and grabbed her.
But she’d put up a good fight, as Jamison had expected her to. Still, the man was stronger and tried to kill her. Jamison had been about to break his cover when Madeline had intervened and he watched, astonished, as Madeline and her Welsh lover had confessed everything for Havilland’s ears.
As unfortunate as the situation was, Jamison was glad that Havilland heard the entire rotten conspiracy from Madeline’s mouth. Or Evon’s mouth, as it were. He heard Evon threaten to sell Havilland off to the highest Welsh bidder, something that filled him with rage. He also heard Evon discuss their plans for the future and how Havilland and Madeline’s father was mad. Mad, is he? He didn’t pay much attention to what was being said about Roald, however, because he was more concerned with Havilland’s immediate future.
So he bided his time, listening, and waiting for his moment to pounce. When he heard Evon offer Madeline the choice of her sister’s fate, he knew he couldn’t wait much longer. He knew he had to make his move. His only concern had been making it to Havilland before Evon could, but Havilland had solved his dilemma by running away. Thank God she had run. With that move, he’d had a chance.
He took it.
Now, Evon Preece was dying beneath him, sucking in the icy waters of the River Banwy. On shore, he could hear Madeline screaming but he paid no attention to her, making sure Evon was quite dead before leaving the body in the water and making his way onto the shore. He was winded but not exhausted. He was, however, enraged, and all of that rage was focused on Madeline.
Havilland had hold of her sister by the edge of the water, her arms wrapped around Madeline so the woman wouldn’t jump into the water to try and save Evon. Madeline was screaming at the top of her lungs, screaming even more when she saw the body of Evon floating down river with the current.
By the time Jamison climbed onto shore, it took every bit of strength he had not to charge Madeline. She was a woman, after all, and he would never take a hand to a woman no matter what the circumstances. But Madeline was sorely pushing his willpower. Walking up on Havilland and Madeline as they struggled, Jamison reached out a massive hand and grabbed Madeline by the neck, wresting her out of Havilland’s grasp and pushing her back against the nearest tree trunk. She was pinned and unable to move.
Panicked, Madeline tried to kick and fight, her instincts as a warrior taking hold, but Jamison held her firm, more firmly still when she struggled. His face was in hers as she tried to dislodge his hand around her neck.
“Listen to me and listen well,” he growled. “I stood by and watched while ye let someone threaten tae kill yer sister. Ye made no move tae save her except in yer weak and cowardly way so I’ll tell ye now that ye belong tae me. Ye’ll no longer be a threat tae Havilland or anyone else at Four Crosses. Those days are over. Ye are my prisoner tae do with as I see fit. Do ye understand?”
Madeline twisted and fought, her hands on his wrists as he held her fast. “You killed him!” she cried. “You killed Evon!”
It wasn’t the answer Jamison was looking for. The grip on her neck tightened and he probably would have caused her to pass out had Havilland not laid a hand on his wrist, gently, so that he understood her silent message to ease up. But that was the only mercy she asked for her sister. She didn’t speak another word about it. Even so, out of respect to Havilland, he eased his grip.
“I killed a threat tae everyone at Four Crosses,” he snarled. “How long have ye been giving him information, Madeline? How long have ye let him use ye to betray yer family?”
Madeline was openly sobbing, all of the arrogance drained out of her. That proud, haughty girl was a shell of her former self. “I love him,” she wept. “He loves me!”
Jamison thought she was rather pathetic because he could see that she believed what she was saying. Young, foolish, and having been caught in the biggest mistake of her life, Madeline probably didn’t realize just how serious her actions were, even with the threat against her sister’s life.
“Ye’re a stupid lass,” he rumbled. “He loved ye as far as the information ye gave him. When ye were of no more use tae him, I can promise ye that he’d have thrown ye in the river, too. Ye let him use ye and ye nearly let him kill yer sister.”
“I would not have let him kill her!” Madeline shouted, spit flying from her lips and landing on his wrist. She was trembling, quaking in his grasp. “You must believe me! I would not have let him do it!”
Jamison jerked her away from the tree, pulling her up to the path with a grip on her arm so tight that nothing short of God’s good command could have loosened it. Like a vise, it caused Madeline to gasp in pain as it bit into her tender flesh. But he didn’t speak to her again as he began to drag her back up the path towards Four Crosses, towing her behind him as she tried to fight and dig her heels in. The harder she fought, the tighter his grip, until Madeline was all but sobbing from the pain of it.
She would have to atone for her sins and she knew it.
Havilland followed behind her sister and Jamison, heartbroken over the entire incident. Given what she’d just gone through with Madeline and Evon, and given how her sister had behaved, she was, perhaps, more heartbroken to reali
ze that Madeline wouldn’t have lifted a finger to help her. Death or enslavement. Madeline had been given the choice and rather than try to convince Evon to let Havilland go, Madeline had taken his question at face value as the only options she had.
While Havilland hoped that Madeline would not have chosen death for her, the truth was that she couldn’t be sure. She didn’t even know her sister anymore, this girl she had grown up with and experienced life and death with. Nay, this wasn’t the same Madeline.
That Madeline was dead and gone.
She had to keep telling herself that as Jamison locked Madeline up in the vault of Four Crosses and, even then, as Jamison went to find Tobias and Thad to tell them what had occurred, Havilland sat on the steps leading down to the vault and listened to her sister sob for the rest of the day.
Truth was, she couldn’t even summon the will to feel pity for her.
My God, Madeline… what have you become?
CHAPTER TWELVE
*
“Are ye going tae make me beg, lass…?”
*
“Preece’s body is going to be found by someone, at some point,” Tobias pointed out. “Will they believe he simply fell into the river and drown or will they think someone killed him?”
It was sunset at Four Crosses as Jamison sat with Tobias and Thad in the great hall, now mostly vacant as servants moved about, preparing for the evening meal. The fire burned hotly in the big hearth and the dogs were spread out over the stones, warming themselves on a cold winter’s evening.
Jamison was on his third cup of the average-tasting wine they kept at Four Crosses. The wine had been shipped from France according to the burn marks on the barrels but it was surprisingly mediocre. Jamison had noticed it from the beginning. But it wasn’t so mediocre that it couldn’t get a man drunk, which was all he was concerned with at the moment. He was a bit woozy but didn’t care. He needed something to fortify him after the day he’d experienced.
Masters of Medieval Romance: Series Starters Volume II Page 76
