Midnight Shadow

by Laurel O'Donnell

  Terran took a step toward the door. “Mary shall not be harmed,” Terran ordered.

  “Of course not,” Kenric said. “The plan is to capture the Midnight Shadow.”

  Together they proceeded down the stairs to the open keep doors. Terran paused on the steps of the keep and looked out over the murmuring crowd. Two dozen guards had positioned themselves in two lines leading from the stairs to a viewing stand, making a path for him. The viewing stand was a small, rectangular structure about three feet off the ground, providing an unobstructed view of the execution platform.

  Terran walked past the guards, aware of the silence following him like the wake of a boat. He could feel hundreds of pairs of eyes on him, and he slanted a gaze at the crowd. Some onlookers were clearly angry. Others looked afraid.

  Frowning, he climbed onto the viewing stand and took his place at the front. Kenric took up a position behind him.

  Suddenly, the people in the crowd shifted, craning their necks toward the commotion of shuffling peasants and shouts of protests beginning near the rear of the crowd.

  Terran turned to see Mary being led toward the executioner’s platform. She was dressed in a drab brown tunic reaching to just below her knees. Her hands were bound in front of her with thick rope. Her head hung to her chest, her shoulders slumped. He felt sorry for the girl; he guessed how terrified she must be, but comforted himself with the thought that she was really in no danger.

  The guards shoved her forward. The girl was so small the guards seemed like towering giants. She moved slowly through the crowd, which moved ever closer to her, everyone clamoring for a look at the doomed girl. For a moment, it seemed the crowd had actually swallowed her up. But she reappeared amidst the throng, moving ever closer to the executioner’s platform.

  The guards shoved people out of the way as they led Mary to the stairs of the platform. A few in the crowd surged forward as if to help her, but the guards roughly pushed them back.

  Sir William, the captain of the guard, stepped up the stairs to join them on the viewing stand, his eyes scanning the crowd.

  “Any sign of him, Captain?” Terran asked.

  Sir William shook his head.

  Terran’s gaze moved over the crowd. The sun had begun to dip over the horizon, and the anxiety bottled up inside him drew his nerves taut.

  Mary reached the stairs to the execution platform. A brown-robed monk took her elbow and began to lead her gently up the wooden steps. She stumbled once as her legs gave way beneath her, but the monk kept her on her feet with a firm grip on her elbow.

  The guards stationed throughout the crowd drew closer to the executioner’s platform, making a tight circle around it. As Terran’s gaze moved back over the crowd, his eyes stopped on Mary. She was staring at the large block of wood sitting ominously on the platform. A wicker basket was positioned next to it, sitting beneath the indentation carved into the block. The poor girl was visibly trembling.

  The monk urged her on, and Mary finally reached the top of the platform.

  The crowd became quiet, deathly quiet, as the executioner mounted the rear stairs of the platform, his large boots thundering on the wooden steps. At his side, he gripped a heavy axe tightly in his beefy hand. He was dressed all in black, his head and neck completely covered by a black hood save for two large eyeholes. He stepped onto the platform, shifting the axe from one hand to the other.

  The monk guided Mary toward the block. Her eyes had gone blank, and Terran wondered if she had lost her reason. She seemed completely oblivious to her surroundings, her face as expressionless as if she were asleep, or already dead inside. The monk guided her to her knees, and Terran’s stomach tightened. This was going too far. Where was the Midnight Shadow? Was his trap going to work?

  The monk stepped back as Mary placed her neck on the chopping block. Her hair dangled down into the wicker basket below her head.

  The executioner moved into position near Mary’s head. He gripped the axe with both hands as he moved the head of the heavy weapon into place at his feet.

  Terran scanned the crowd, looking for a sign of his enemy, but saw nothing but morbidly curious faces awaiting an unjust execution.

  The executioner raised the axe over his head and glanced over to the viewing platform, waiting for the final order to proceed.

  He had to put a stop to this charade. Mary didn’t deserve to die. He opened his mouth to tell the executioner to lower his weapon.

  Suddenly, there was another commotion, this time at the bottom of the stairs of the execution platform. Terran glanced toward the sudden flurry of movement and swore he saw a flash of black explode through the crowd.

  The blur leaped onto the platform and hit the executioner, knocking the large man to the ground. The axe flew out of his hands and landed with a loud thud in one of the platform’s wooden planks. Then, just as quickly, the shape was gone. Mary had disappeared into the crowd with it.

  “The Midnight Shadow!” The shout erupted from somewhere in the crowd.

  The onlookers exploded in wild chaos, yelling and pushing for a glimpse of the Midnight Shadow.

  “Don’t let him escape!” Kenric ordered, his gaze focused on the bottom of the stairway to the executioner’s stand.

  Another flash of black drew Terran’s gaze as a cloaked figure moved through the crowd. “There he is!” he shouted.

  With a wave of his arm, Kenric signaled the guards forward.

  Quick as lightning, the Midnight Shadow engaged the first guard, slicing his sword down to block the guard’s blow.

  The crowd scattered away from the swinging weapons and their deadly blades, clearing a small circle in which the combatants fought.

  The Midnight Shadow parried and struck with the skill of a trained fighter. But as the second, third, and fourth guards moved in, he was hard pressed to defend himself. Finally, one of the guards grabbed his arm and another wrenched the sword from his hand.

  Terran’s heart pounded in his chest. Was it her?

  “Take off his mask!” Kenric shouted.

  Terran stepped forward to the edge of the viewing stand, anxiously looking down into the courtyard.

  The crowd shifted uneasily as people jostled for position to see the unveiling. The entire courtyard again became unnervingly, eerily quiet.

  One of the guards reached forward and yanked the mask from the Midnight Shadow’s head.

  Terran held his breath as the mask slid over the rebel’s neck, chin, nose, and finally off his head to reveal...

  ... Harry Delaney. Bria’s grandfather!

  “It can’t be,” Kenric hissed. “He never could have overpowered the tax collectors.”

  “He’s not the Midnight Shadow!” a voice called. “I am!”

  Terran swiveled his head to see another Midnight Shadow standing at the outskirts of the crowd, sword at the ready.

  Another Midnight Shadow!

  Kenric fumed, “What’s going on? Get him!”

  But even as soldiers pushed their way through the crowd, one peasant and then another pointed toward the crenels. Terran looked up to see a third Midnight Shadow. This one grabbed a nearby rope and swung down toward Harry, hitting two guards with his booted feet, knocking them down.

  “Get them!” Kenric shouted. “Get them all!”

  Terran’s gaze shifted to the second Midnight Shadow, who was engaged in battle with two guards. He was skillful enough to keep the two guards at bay, but there was something strange about the way he fought. His right arm wielded the sword expertly, but he never seemed to lift his left arm, either for balance or for form. It hung at his side like a useless thing. Had he been wounded already, or...

  Realization rocked Terran. He knew of only one man who had a crippled arm. And if Bria’s grandfather was here, why not her father?

  Terran’s gaze swiveled to Harry and the other Midnight Shadow at his side. This third Midnight Shadow was quite skilled. His thrusts and parries were timed to perfection. Or were they hers?

&
nbsp; Terran’s jaw clenched as prickles raced across the back of his neck. He had to know. He leaped from the viewer’s platform, hit the ground and quickly moved forward, not taking his gaze from the Midnight Shadow beside Harry. A guard stumbled back from the fight and into Terran’s path. Terran grabbed him by his tunic and shoved him out of the way.

  The Midnight Shadow deflected a blow and countered with another, driving another guard back. Then he turned with his sword raised and came face to face with Terran.

  Terran wasn’t surprised by what he saw. Crystal blue eyes gazed at him through the two slits in the mask. The bluest eyes he had ever seen. God’s blood! Why didn’t I see it before?

  Bria. His heart ached to hold her and touch her. But as long as she stayed hidden behind the mask of his enemy, he could only stare.

  Behind her, one of the guards lifted his weapon to strike her down.

  Chapter Forty-One

  Terran lurched forward, lifting his blade to block the blow and then knock the guard’s sword aside, saving the Midnight Shadow’s life. Saving Bria’s life.

  He shoved the guard away in disgust, then looked back at his black-cloaked enemy. His lover.

  She said nothing as she slowly lowered her weapon.

  He raised his sword and placed the tip to her neck. Which one would she be when he unmasked her? Enemy or lover?

  The fighting around them seemed to slow, the noise lowering to a whisper, the figures fading into a hazy blur.

  Bria lowered her weapon even further until the tip was almost touching the ground. Terran’s heart ached. He could see the dazzling blue of her eyes shining at him from the dark holes in her mask. He could see the sadness in them, the pain, the anguish. But behind it all, her inner fire burned bright. If he captured her, he would be sentencing her to death. The flame would be extinguished forever, the only flame that could ever warm his cold heart.

  “Well done, cousin,” Kenric said, approaching from the viewer’s platform. “Unmask him.”

  Terran kept the tip of his blade to her neck, transfixed by her brilliant blue eyes. Despite the growing pain in his heart, he felt a sudden surge of anger racing through him as well, anger at her betrayal. How could she stand against her husband? “I don’t have to,” he announced.

  “What do you mean? Unmask him!” Kenric snapped.

  Terran turned his full anger on Kenric. “You overstep yourself, cousin. I give the commands.”

  “Fool,” Kenric gritted. He whirled away from Terran, throwing his arms high above his head. “Now!” he hollered. “Attack!”

  The courtyard exploded with a cacophony of fighting as Kenric’s paid mercenaries moved in, clashing with Terran’s loyal men. The thunderous sound of dozens of blades colliding, of steel cracking against steel, clanged in the courtyard. Allegiances quickly played themselves out as Kenric’s men grouped together, each ripping off his tunic to reveal a black snake painted onto a chest plate or leather armor.

  All of the snakes had eyes as cold and as black as Kenric’s.

  Terran turned to his cousin. “You traitorous bastard.” He swung at Kenric, but his cousin ducked his blow and raced out of the circle of guards. Terran suddenly found himself surrounded by men bearing the snake symbol, men he didn’t recognize. I’ve been living like a blind man in my own castle.

  He turned to block a blow and found himself fighting side by side with Bria. He finished the guard with a quick strike and felt pride swell in his chest as Bria dispatched another opponent with great skill, defeating him with two solid blows.

  He opened his mouth to say something to her, but three mercenaries attacking one of his guards needed his immediate attention.

  Anger fueled Terran’s rage, and he fought like a man possessed. He quickly helped his man defeat the mercenaries, then whirled to look for his cousin. Kenric had retreated to the viewer’s platform and was watching the battle from afar. Of course. He was too much a coward to wage his own fight. Slowly his cousin smiled a chilling, triumphant smile.

  Terran turned to survey the battle around him, needing to know the reason behind the smile. Kenric’s men seemed to be swarming everywhere, outnumbering his loyal forces almost three to one.

  Terran’s gaze swept the peasants until he found George, Mary’s father, at the front of the crowd. He nodded his head at him.

  With a loud battle cry, the peasants rushed forward, brandishing pitchforks or pikes. They attacked the men with snakes on their tunics, clubbing them in the head, stabbing them in the side.

  Terran turned back to Kenric. It was his turn to smile. He would not lose his castle to his cousin. His people would save the day.

  The whizzing sound of a blade caused Terran to instinctively duck. A mercenary’s sword sliced through the air above his head. Terran parried the blow and exchanged a second swing with the mercenary.

  Harry stood at his side, intercepting the next swing. The old man turned to him and called out, “Go! They went into the keep.”

  They? Terran’s mind screamed. He glanced at the viewer’s platform and found it empty. Damn it! He quickly glanced around to see his wife was gone. Bria was going after Kenric! But his men needed him here. They were greatly overpowered and outnumbered.

  “Go!” Harry shouted at him. “We’ll take care of these dogs!”

  A squadron of soldiers entered through the open gates, bursting into the courtyard with swords in hand. It took a moment for Terran to realize the crest they bore on their tunics was a flying falcon, the crest of the Delaneys. Lord Delaney had mustered up an army to help his daughter rescue Mary. And him.

  Terran nodded to Harry and immediately charged toward the keep. But as he neared the keep steps, a familiar shape stepped out of the shadows thrown by the keep wall, cutting off his path of pursuit. Captain William stared challengingly at him, his sword in his hand. The eyes of the snake on his armor seemed to stare at him defiantly as well.

  “Let me pass, William,” Terran snarled. “You’ve done enough.”

  “But if I defeat you, Kenric might be lord yet. Then I’ll have enough gold to call no one master but myself.”

  “You can try,” Terran growled and swept in low, but William parried the blow, swinging his weapon around to the side to slice at Terran. Terran blocked the strike and answered with another swing.

  Terran’s mind kept returning to Bria chasing Kenric alone. He had to finish William, or he would never get to her in time. He thrust, but pulled back as the captain aimed for his stomach with the tip of his sword.

  Terran swung low, knocking William’s weapon aside, and lunged in. The blow bounced harmlessly off William’s chain-mail, as if the snake itself were deflecting the strike. Anger filtered through Terran. He had to get to Bria! He had no time to waste with this buffoon, this traitor. “You’re a fool to believe my cousin’s word. Kenric has no allegiance to anyone but himself.”

  Terran feinted to the side, then stepped back, launching an attack from the opposite direction. He caught William off guard and twisted his wrist in an attempt to disarm him. William disengaged before his weapon went spinning. Terran grit his teeth and knocked his thrust aside. They crossed swords and the clang of the weapons reverberated through the air to mingle with the sound of other battles.

  Terran swung to one side and then pulled back, thrusting. William didn’t have time to recover and Terran’s sword sliced deep into his stomach, driving through a gap in the captain’s armor. William’s sword clattered to the ground as he gazed at Terran in disbelief before crumpling to his knees.

  Terran pulled his sword from Sir William’s stomach and whirled without watching him fall. He raced into the keep after Bria.

  ***

  Bria ran through the keep, chasing after Kenric. She wasn’t going to let him get away. He had to pay for his crimes. He’d nearly succeeded in having Mary executed.

  Kenric dashed into the Great Hall, and she sped after him. He was halfway through the empty hall when she reached the doorway. “You won’t make it
out of here alive,” she called, making no attempt to disguise her voice.

  Kenric halted and whirled.

  She approached him purposefully. “Even if you do, where will you go? Word will spread of your betrayal, and you will not be trusted anywhere.”

  “Take off your mask,” he commanded.

  She shook her head. “Your reign of fear is over,” she proclaimed. “You’ve given your last command.” Bria halted an arm’s reach away from him.

  “I would have been lord here,” he said, “if it weren’t for you.”

  “No,” Bria said. “Evil never triumphs. Terran would have defeated you with or without my help.”

  A crooked smile crossed his lips and he raised his weapon, attacking with a ferocity and strength Bria was hard put to fend off. She had a moment’s triumph as he grimaced under her defense. He hadn’t known how good she was.

  They crossed swords and Kenric grabbed her wrist.

  “I know who you are,” he chortled. “No one addresses Lord Knowles as Terran except his wife.”

  Bria struggled to push off, but he held her firm.

  “Remove your mask so when I put my sword through you, I can see your face.”

  “I’ll remove my mask when you are banished from here and there is no more need for my services,” Bria grit out.

  Kenric shoved her back roughly and hooked his foot beneath her ankle. She stumbled back and fell to the floor hard. Kenric arced his sword down toward her head. Bria quickly rolled out of the way, but the tip of his blade sank into her cloak, trapping her.

  Bria moved to raise her sword, but Kenric stepped on her wrist, pinning her hand to the ground.

  Kenric loomed above her, a foot on either side of her body. He bent down to her, his booted foot digging into her wrist. Agony shot up her arm. “Let’s see how much of a woman you really are.” He ran a hand over her chest, grabbing at her breasts.