William’s vision narrowed to a single point: Aldred’s sneer. The Saxon’s stained teeth looked like fangs.
“’Twas you,” William said in a low voice.
Aldred nodded. His blue eyes gleamed.
“Where is Gertrude?” William snapped.
“Halfway to Nihtscua by now. We met a short while ago, in the woods that separate your lands from mine.”
“The North Woods?”
“The very same.”
So you were the rider Erik chased, William thought.
Aldred gave him a knowing look. “You needn’t hold your breath waiting for your mewling spy to return.”
“Mewling?”
“He cried like a woman as he died.”
William’s body shook. Aldred was vile, venomous. He had to be stopped.
Aldred grinned. “To be fair, he had a right to. His death was slow and painful. I rather enjoyed it.”
“You’ll pay for this,” William said through gritted teeth.
“’Tis you who shall pay…and handsomely, if you ever want to see your wife’s lovely, violet eyes again.”
“You walking, talking pustule!”
“Call me names if you must, but you should thank me. Gertrude thinks she used sufficient poison to kill Lady Ravenwood at once, but that’s not the case. You see, I know something of herbs, so I advised her of the ‘correct’ amounts. Not too much, not too little. Just enough to keep your wife alive while we strike our deal.”
“What deal?”
“’Tis quite simple. I give you the name of the poison. You give me Ravenwood.”
William grasped the solid hilt of his sword. “The king would not approve.”
“The king cares only for his scholarly books and the purple cushions that warm his arse.”
“You’ve obviously never met him.”
“And you’ve overlooked my generosity. I’ll let you keep your other manors.”
“Those manors are not yours to give.”
“That may be, but the longer we tarry, the faster Lady Ravenwood’s life drains from her body.”
Dark clouds eddied above. Lightning flashed, and William felt the answering thunder deep within him.
“You really are a serpent,” he said.
Aldred’s eyes narrowed to blue slits. “Why do you say that?”
“Why do you think?”
“You’re referring to the mark on my arm. How—”
“I know, Aldred.”
“Know…what exactly?”
“’Twas you who betrayed me to Hattin.”
Aldred’s features twisted and became more angular. He looked demonic. “You give as good as you get,” he said.
“You’d do well to remember that.”
“What I remember is Sahar’s eagerness to deceive you. How we laughed when Hattin’s men dragged you off into the night!”
An unexpected calm washed over William. “I don’t doubt it,” he said smoothly.
Aldred bristled. “You don’t care?”
“I have more pressing concerns,” William replied. “Wait here.” He turned to leave.
“If this is a trick—”
William cut him off with orders to his garrison. “Raise the drawbridge and close the gate,” he said above the rising wind. “Watch him. He doesn’t stray from this spot.”
“Aye, my lord,” a chorus of male voices answered.
He eyed the three knights closest to Aldred. They looked angry, restless.
“Whatever happens, don’t take his life,” William commanded. “Lady Ravenwood’s may depend on it.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
William burst into the prison chamber. Robert, Wulfstan, and Geoffrey stared at him in silence. Outside, a thunderclap rippled the morning sky.
“Lady Ravenwood has been poisoned,” William announced.
The three men gasped.
“Does she live?” Wulfstan asked.
“Barely,” William answered.
Robert stepped forward. “Do you know who poisoned her?”
“Gertrude,” William said. Then he turned to Wulfstan. “Under Aldred’s direction.”
Wulfstan slammed the side of his fist against the stone wall. “I knew something was wrong.”
“That’s not all,” William continued. “Your brother is here.”
“Now?” said Wulfstan. “For what purpose? To gloat?”
“You know him well,” said William. “But he came to make a deal.”
Robert frowned. “What kind of deal?”
“Meg doesn’t know what type of poison was used,” William explained. “Of course, Aldred does, and he’s offered to identify it.”
Wulfstan’s mouth twisted. “In exchange for what?”
“Ravenwood,” William said.
A second collective gasp filled the chamber. Thunder pounded the outer walls of the keep.
“The gall of that man!” Robert exclaimed.
“’Tis more than gall,” Wulfstan said. “His soul is diseased.”
“He planned it well,” Robert remarked.
“That’s his forte,” said Wulfstan. “He studies his victims, then backs them into a corner until they have no choice but to surrender.”
Robert crossed his arms. “My brother does not surrender.”
“Then he’d better think fast,” said Wulfstan.
Robert regarded him for a long moment. Then he turned to William. “What about your other manors?”
“Aldred said I could keep them,” William said. “But I don’t believe him for a second.”
“As well you shouldn’t,” Wulfstan said. “He won’t stop till he has them all.”
William eyed Wulfstan. Perhaps he’d misjudged him. The Saxon’s intentions might be just as they appeared: honorable. “Meg thought you might be able to help Lady Ravenwood,” he said. “If you could identify the poison she took—”
“We could save her,” Wulfstan finished. “I’ll do it.”
“Good,” said William, turning to his squire. “Geoffrey, take him to Lady Ravenwood. Then join the other men in the bailey.”
“Aye, my lord,” Geoffrey said, squaring his shoulders. With a glance toward Wulfstan, he started for the door.
Wulfstan followed but stopped on the threshold and looked back at William. “What will you do?”
William sighed. His eyes felt dry, scratchy. If only he’d slept the night before.
“I’ll stall Aldred and hope for a miracle,” he said.
“And if there is none?” Wulfstan pressed.
William stared at the prison’s bleak, gray walls, and a tide of emotions surged within him. The wheel of fate was turning faster, closing in on his world.
“Then I must choose,” he said, “between Ravenwood and my wife.”
****
Lightning streaked the purple sky as William and Robert emerged from the keep. Side by side, they descended to the bailey. The air was electric, and the ground vibrated from the thunder.
All of Ravenwood had congregated in the courtyard. Even the clangs from the smithy had ceased. High above, ravens lined the curtain wall. Ever watchful, they cocked their heads and cawed their secrets to one another.
The people’s whispers drifted on the wind, and William intuited their words. Aldred the Merciless. William the Storm. Will they battle? Who will die?
Across the bailey, Aldred’s stallion reared. Its high-pitched neigh sliced through the wind like a dagger. Aldred curbed the animal, then turned his icy gaze on William.
Robert grumbled. “I wish you could draw your sword and cleave him in twain,” he muttered.
William kept his eyes on Aldred. “Patience, Robert,” he said. “You may get your wish.”
“But what if Wulfstan fails? Will you choose your land or your lady?”
A myriad of images filled William’s mind. Emma’s twinkling, violet eyes. Her tender smile. Their first kiss inside the prison chamber. Her droll expression when she made the outrageous comment about w
ell-endowed horses. Her fingers stroking his misshapen finger to soothe his buried pain.
“There never was a choice,” he said finally. “I shall not abandon Lady Ravenwood.”
Robert’s smile was poignant. “If Father were alive, he’d say this, but I hope it means as much coming from me. I’m proud of you.”
William turned to his brother, whose gray eyes were the exact shade their father’s had been. A rush of emotion warmed his heart and renewed his strength. “Thank you, Robert,” he said.
Aldred’s razor-sharp voice cut across the bailey. “Have you decided?”
William steeled himself and gave his brother a meaningful look. “Shall we?”
“I wouldn’t miss this for the world,” Robert replied.
Together, they strode across the courtyard. William raised his face to the network of lightning and thunderclaps that shook the sky. He reveled in the storm. It empowered him.
Aldred snorted as the brothers stopped in front of him. “I see you’ve brought your bloodhound.”
Robert smiled. “How well you put it,” he said smoothly. “Your stink drew me hither.”
William’s mouth twitched. “Will you never come down from your horse?”
“I’ve no reason to,” Aldred retorted.
“Perhaps you’re afraid,” William said.
Aldred threw him a withering look, and his white-blond hair flailed wildly. “’Tis you who should be afraid!”
“Then dismount,” said William.
Aldred glowered at him for a long moment, then swung himself off the warhorse. “Happy?”
“Ecstatic,” William replied.
Aldred smirked. “An odd state for one whose wife is slipping away.”
Ignoring the gibe, William looked toward the stable. He caught a groom’s eye and snapped his fingers. The man scurried forward and led Aldred’s horse away.
“Your servants are very alert,” Aldred commented. “I shall enjoy their attentions when I am master here.”
“I doubt they’d be so attentive to you,” Robert said. “They respect Lord Ravenwood.”
“Respect,” Aldred spat. “Fear is a much stronger incentive.”
“Ah,” said William. “I’ve heard of your methods.”
Aldred bared his teeth in a feral smile. “Fame suits me. But enough talk. What is your decision?”
All of a sudden, Aldred went rigid. He gaped at something behind William.
William and Robert shared a quick glance. Then they followed Aldred’s gaze to the keep’s forebuilding. Wulfstan raced down the steps. Like the restless wind, his blue mantle flowed behind him.
The assembled crowd gasped and murmured as Wulfstan strode across the bailey. William and Robert hurried toward him.
So did Aldred. “What are you doing here?” he snarled at his brother.
Wulfstan lifted his chin. “I came to help.”
“When did you arrive?”
“Long before you.”
“There’s no way you overheard my plans.”
“You’re right,” Wulfstan said calmly. “But I sensed them.”
Aldred snickered. “How? You possess no true magic.”
“You ought not to dismiss my talents, Aldred. They’ve just defeated you.”
Aldred’s eyes narrowed. “What do you mean?”
Wulfstan turned to William. “I identified the poison,” he said. “Meg knows what to do.”
William released a long breath he hadn’t been conscious of holding.
Aldred reached for his dagger. “You—”
“Don’t!” Robert commanded, his own dagger already poised at Aldred’s throat.
Wulfstan grinned at Robert, then shifted his gaze to Aldred. “Well, Brother,” he said, “it seems we’re all quicker than you.”
Robert snatched Aldred’s dagger with his free hand, then lowered his own. Aldred’s face grew redder by the second.
William regarded Aldred. “Your lever is shattered. You’ve lost.”
“I’ve lost nothing!” Aldred shouted.
“Look around,” Robert said. “’Tis over.”
“Not quite,” William remarked. “His treachery deserves a response.”
Aldred swore under his breath. “What do you intend to do?”
“First, I’ll seek your brother’s counsel,” William said.
Aldred spat on the ground. “He has no say in this.”
“He knows you better than anyone here,” William said, turning to his new ally. “Well, Wulfstan? What do you advise?”
Conflict flared in Wulfstan’s eyes. Then it died as he regarded his brother. “Kill him.”
Lightning flashed, and Aldred drew his sword. Wulfstan and Robert backed away.
Adrenaline shot through William’s body. ’Twas a call to combat, and he knew it well. With grim determination, he pulled his sword from its sheath.
A deafening thunderclap split the sky as William and Aldred circled each other.
Aldred grinned. “Finally,” he said, “after all these years. Hattin had his turn. Now I have mine.”
He slashed at William’s face. William wrenched away, and the wind from Aldred’s blade brushed his cheek. A series of thrusts followed. William blocked every one.
Aldred sneered. “Your skill with a sword is impressive,” he said. “’What a pity you’ve none with the ladies.”
Hate forged a fever in William’s blood, but he fought its seductive song. An angry swordsman was a dead one.
“What?” Aldred taunted. “No response? I have it on good authority your lovemaking is tame.”
A muscle twitched in William’s jaw, but he made no reply.
“Sahar regaled me with tales of your boring performance,” Aldred persisted. “No wonder your wife drank the poison. She’d rather die than lie beneath you.”
William pitched forward. He tackled Aldred to the ground, knocking the sword from Aldred’s hand. They grappled in the dust to the sound of men’s shouts and crackling thunder.
Aldred reached for his sword. William punched him in the nose. Stunned only for an instant, Aldred grabbed his sword and clipped William’s temple with the pommel.
Pain shot through William’s head. He fell backward but rolled aside as Aldred’s sword smote the ground where he’d lain. He scrambled to his feet, sword in hand.
Aldred stabbed William’s arm, exactly where the poisoned arrow had struck. Wincing, William tightened his grip on his sword.
Aldred laughed, despite the blood trickling from his nose. “A reminder, Norman.”
“Believe me,” William said through his teeth, “I need none.”
The clash of steel resumed. Aldred jabbed and lunged. William blocked and parried.
A strange sense of calm enveloped William as he deflected attack after attack. At last, their cross-guards locked. Their faces were mere inches apart. William could smell Aldred’s fetid breath. And he knew what he must do.
“You’re finished, Aldred,” he said.
The Saxon’s eyes were wide, crazy. “Why? Because you’re handy with a sword? Because my brother betrayed me?”
William smiled. “Because you’re a fool.”
Aldred snarled and broke away from him. With both hands, he raised his sword above his head. He was off-balance, vulnerable.
William thrust his blade into Aldred’s chest.
A woman screamed. The crowd hushed.
Aldred froze, his arms above his head, his eyes open wide. The sword fell from his hands and plunked on the bailey floor. He dropped beside it, face-down in the dust.
A gurgle rose from his throat. As the rain began to fall, he stilled.
Aldred the Merciless was dead.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Rain thrashed the keep. Inside, a growing chill sharpened the air. Yet William refused the solace of a fire and paced in front of the solar’s barren hearth. He’d allowed Tilda to treat his wounds but had rejected her offer of food. It seemed profane to consider his own comfort while ab
ove, Emma fought for her life.
He’d spared only a glance for Aldred’s lifeless body before racing to Emma’s side, but Meg immediately sent him away. Once again, he was forced to wait. Alone. And the drone of voices in the great hall waxed on.
One by one, Ravenwood’s people trickled into the hall. The instant they learned of Emma’s condition, they came. They seemed to need each other.
William stopped pacing and stared at the planked floor. He didn’t want to need anyone. He’d devoted his life to that end, ever since his ordeal in the Holy Land.
In sooth, even before then, he thought.
He looked up as Robert and John, the steward, entered the solar.
“Come, William,” said Robert. “You’ve been brooding long enough.”
William sighed. “’Tis not every day one kills a man, though you’d think I’d be used to it by now.”
“You had to do it,” Robert said.
John nodded. “We all approve,” he said. “Aldred deserved it, and his death is good news for Nihtscua.”
Robert fingered the dagger at his waist. “But that’s not why we’re here.”
John stepped forward. “My lord, the people need you. They fear so for Lady Ravenwood.”
William rubbed his eyes. “I’ve no comfort to give. Not now.”
“You have,” Robert argued, “because you share their suffering.”
“Let the people see you,” John pleaded. “Be with them.”
William looked from one man to the other. He listened to the voices invading the solar. Above the din, a child sobbed.
He swallowed hard. “I’ll go.”
Hand on heart, John sighed. Robert nodded his approval. Then together, the three men left the solar.
The moment William stepped foot in the hall, the magnitude of Ravenwood’s distress hit him. The room was packed, just as it had been on his wedding day, and all eyes looked to him. He waded through a sea of anxious faces to the dais, but he didn’t climb onto it. He stood before it, on the same level as everyone else, and turned around.
An elderly woman hobbled forward. “My lord,” she said, “’tis good you’ve come. I want you to know, I’m praying for her ladyship. She visited me every day when I was ill. If angels walk the earth, she must be one of them.”
She stepped back, and a gangly stable boy took her place.
“My lord,” he said, “Lady Ravenwood must get well. She mended my puppy’s leg, and now he can run.”
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