Time had run out. Lawrence lifted his sword. And then….
The first arrow hit Lawrence in the back. As he lurched sideways, the second one hit him in the ribs just below his right arm. He pitched sideways and his sword clattered to the ground as Elizabeau shrieked, realizing her head was still intact. But a split second of shock gave way to a grinding sense of self-preservation and she bolted to her feet, turning to see Lawrence writhing on the ground several feet away.
His sword was a few feet away and she swooped on it, taking the very sharp and heavy weapon in two hands. She almost dropped it the first time from sheer nerves but managed to get a hold of it on the second try. About the time she turned in Rhys’ direction, she could see two arrows hitting the men around him and Rhys exploded to his feet like a mad man. Elizabeau dashed in his direction with several soldiers in pursuit.
The bailey decayed into chaos as more arrows began to fly. Lewis was hit in the shoulder but it was not a bad wound; he rushed at Rhys as the man threw off his captors, still bound, still with the rope around his neck. But Lewis had his sword up and drawn, his intentions toward Rhys obvious. Rhys could not defend himself, but he could evade the man’s frontal onslaught. As he bolted in Elizabeau’s direction, Lewis moved to cut him off and, out of desperation, Rhys hit the ground with the intention of rolling into Lewis’ shins and taking his feet out from under him. But Elizabeau saw what was happening and, having no idea what Rhys was doing, panicked and took the heavy sword in her hands and heaved it with all of her might at Lewis.
It flew through the air awkwardly, flipping end over end. Lewis never saw the spinning blade coming; he only knew what had happened when it sailed straight into his neck and lodged there. The man collapsed in a heap, his head half-severed by the extremely sharp blade. More arrows flew overhead as Elizabeau reached Rhys and the dying Lewis. She nearly fell atop Rhys as she struggled to untie his hands.
“Are you all right?” he ripped his hands free of the bindings as they came loose. “You weren’t hurt, were you?”
She shook her head as he wrenched the sword out of Lewis’ neck and turned to her. “Nay,” she gasped, terrified of all of the men running around them. But her gaze inevitably fell on Lewis, the man she had half-killed. She felt ill at the sight of him. “You cannot leave him like this. You must help him.”
Lewis’ eyes were open, gazing up at the lady and her knight. He was beyond any help. “Be… merciful, du Bois,” he mumbled thickly. “Be swift.”
Rhys gazed down at the man emotionlessly. “For the courtesy you have shown the lady and me, I will ensure that you feel no pain.”
Lewis simply closed his eyes in response. Pushing Elizabeau out of the way, Rhys stood up and the blade sailed over his head. Elizabeau turned away as it came down, finishing what she had started and severing Lewis’ neck from his body. Elizabeau kept her back to the scene; she couldn’t bear to look. As Rhys put his massive arm around her in preparation for fleeing, a body suddenly came flying out at them with a crossbow in hand and Rhys leveled the sword in the man’s direction.
“Wait!” David shouted, pulling off the wrap that was around his head, disguising him. “It’s me!”
Rhys exhaled sharply and lowered the blade. “Thank God,” he muttered. “Where’s Geist?”
David shook his head, grabbing Elizabeau by the arm. “I do not know. But we must get her out of here.”
Rhys didn’t argue. Together, the three of them raced across the bailey towards the kitchen yard where a charger waited at the postern gate. Crossing into the kitchen yard, they were met by several household soldiers and a loud, violent battle ensued. David tossed the crossbow to Elizabeau as he unsheathed his sword, but Rhys was already tearing into several well-armed men. When one man came too close to Elizabeau, she whacked him across the face with the crossbow and he dropped to the ground. It was then that she realized there was one arrow still in the second chamber of the weapon and, after taking a few moments to figure out how the thing worked, she launched it at one of the men battling Rhys.
Elizabeau’s aim was slightly off due to her shaking hands and the arrow sailed a little too close to Rhys’ head. It zoomed within inches of his ear and hit one of his challengers in the neck. Startled, Rhys took his eyes off his enemies for a brief second to shoot Elizabeau an exasperated look. She smiled sheepishly.
He couldn’t help but grin at her, returning to the fight with more vigor than before. But his grin vanished when Elizabeau suddenly joined the fight, bashing men in the face and neck with the empty crossbow. She was howling like a madwoman and as Rhys dispatched the last opponent, he turned to grab her around the waist and carry her away from the scene.
“What in the hell are you doing?” he demanded, setting her on her feet as they neared the postern gate. “You’re going to get yourself killed, you silly wench.”
She shook herself free of his grasp, facing him with the stubbornness he had become very familiar with. “What are you complaining about? I helped you, did I not?”
He cocked a disapproving eyebrow at her, not having the time or energy to argue as he turned to see how David was doing. The blond knight was in the process of breaking down his last opponent, but there were more rushing in from the main bailey and Rhys yelled at him.
“David!” he shouted. “Come now!”
With one last swipe at the king’s soldier, David bolted off in their direction. He was swinging the sword and hollering like a crazy man, giving off a frightening appearance to those who would think to chase after him. When he reached Rhys and Elizabeau, he practically shoved the lady towards the gate.
“Let’s go,” he yanked the postern gate open and barreled through first to make sure no one was waiting for them on the other side. Seeing it was clear, he reached out and pulled the lady through. “Come along, my lady. No time to stand around.”
Elizabeau tripped in her haste but caught herself. Rhys was right behind her, his big hands and enormous arms hovering over her protectively. David had the charger tethered to a small sapling near the wall and he quickly untied the animal, holding it steady as Rhys gently mounted Elizabeau. Rhys was preparing to mount behind her when a growl near the gate stopped him.
“Stay where you are.”
Rhys, David and Elizabeau turned to see Lawrence standing in the open gate. He had two arrows sticking out of him and was bleeding profusely, but he had one advantage the rest of them did not have – a wicked looking crossbow, both barrels loaded, that was aimed straight at Elizabeau.
David, hands raised, stepped towards him. “What in the hell are you doing?” he demanded softly.
Lawrence fixed on David, a man he had known and served for many years. He was probably the closest thing he had to a brother. “Finishing what I started, of course.”
David stared at him, lowering his hands and shaking his head in disgust. “In God’s name, what possessed you to betray my brother as you have?” he hissed. “He has been your friend for years, Lawrence. He accepted your fealty when no one else would, after your wife had died and you drowned yourself in drink every night until you were useless. Is this how you repay his loyalty? By betraying him? You sicken me.”
“My reasons are my own, David,” Lawrence said quietly, though he now trained the crossbow on David’s chest. “You would not understand them.”
“You are right; I would not,” David snapped. “There is no reason great enough to explain what you have done.”
Lawrence was gravely injured; that much was obvious. No one could understand how he was still on his feet with two arrows in him. But he smiled weakly at David, a rare gesture. It was also a frightening one. Then he looked pensive. “I suppose not,” he murmured. “But I have my reasons nonetheless and they have nothing to do with Chris or you. They are my own.”
David was growing increasingly livid. “I simply cannot believe what I am seeing,” he seethed. “If you have any measure of dignity left in you, then you will let us leave in peace. At least show s
ome repentance for what you have done.”
Lawrence’s smile faded and his body, weakened, began to visibly shake. The crossbow moved back in Elizabeau’s direction and an arrow suddenly let fly; it sailed close to Elizabeau’s head and she shrieked, covering her face as if her hands would protect her from the projectile. In the process, she lost her balance and toppled off the charger. Rhys caught her before she hit the ground, cradling her against his chest and turning his back on Lawrence to protect her.
But Lawrence’s attention remained fixed on David and the crossbow reacquired the target of David’s chest. The weapon twitched and wavered as Lawrence grew progressively unsteady. But he still remained resolute.
David could see that there was no reasoning with the man. “How much?” he asked after a moment, distain in his voice. “How much were you promised to betray Chris and kill the lady?”
Lawrence was so unsteady that his words were shaky. “It wasn’t betrayal as much as it was a decision. Chris offered me friendship and service, but I would never gain wealth or status through him. The older I grew and the more my son grew, I realized that I needed something to leave him. He deserves whatever I can provide and I was offered both wealth and status in exchange for helping the king retain his crown. Is that a satisfactory explanation?”
David just shook his head; he was still having difficulty believing it all. “I cannot comprehend why you would do this to us, Lawrence. You were like family.”
“But the fact remains that I am not your family, nor do I gain anything of value from our association. I had to think of my legacy and I am sorry that you cannot understand that.”
“I understand it. But you never even expressed an interest in such things to Chris or me. At least you could have given us the courtesy of trying to provide you with what you wanted. You never even gave us the chance.”
Lawrence’s manner grew dark, as if he was suddenly fighting off a strong surge of remorse. His balance failed him for a moment but he quickly recovered, keeping the weapon trained on David.
“It is of no matter,” he muttered. “I must do what I believe best for me and my son.”
David could see how unsteady he was growing. He eyed the crossbow. “You only have two arrows in that. There are three of us.”
Lawrence was struggling to maintain his hold on the crossbow as his strength, and life, drained away. “One arrow for you and one for Rhys. I have a dagger for the lady.”
“One arrow isn’t going to fell me and it certainly isn’t going to fell Rhys. We’ll kill you before you can get to her.”
Lawrence knew his time was limited. His vision was already growing dark. “We shall see,” he mumbled.
David knew they were at an end. He waited for the arrow to come flying out at him, wondering if he could turn himself in a way that it would do the least damage. He heard a sharp snap and waited for the searing pain as the projectile plowed into him, but nothing happened. In fact, Lawrence suddenly dropped the crossbow and pitched face-first onto the grass.
A long, thin arrow was jutting out of the back of Lawrence’s neck. Astonished, David looked up to see Geist standing in the open postern gate entrance with an empty crossbow in his hand.
“Jesus,” David hissed, pulling Lawrence’s crossbow out of the grass just in case the man decided to rise again. “You came along just in time. He was going to kill us all.”
Geist stepped over Lawrence’s supine form, hardly giving the man a second look. His gaze moved to Rhys and the lady just as Rhys was setting her to her feet; they were both shaken but unharmed. But now was not the time to relax.
“There are more men behind me,” he said urgently. “You must make haste from this place.”
Rhys knew he was right; any delay, no matter how small – even to feel their momentary relief – could be the difference between life and death. They were still in danger. Without a word, he picked Elizabeau up again, wearily, and kissed her on the cheek before depositing her onto the back of the charger.
David watched the movements of the man, knowing that for as grateful as Rhys was for their lives, now came the reality of turning Elizabeau over to Conrad. It made all else they had been through pale by comparison, which was the truly ironic thing – he had saved her, in so many ways, and would never enjoy the rewards of his labor. Knowing what the man had gone through over the past few months, how tormented he had been, David put his hand on Rhys’ arm as the man prepared to mount.
“Wait,” he said quietly. “Let me take her back. You and Geist can make your way back to the approaching army on foot. They should not be too far away if they departed as planned.”
Rhys looked up at Elizabeau, gazing into her pale, strained face. “Nay,” he murmured, gathering the reins as he prepared to mount. “I will take her.”
“Are you sure?”
“Sure enough.”
He mounted heavily behind her, gathering her into one arm as he settled himself on the saddle. Elizabeau could feel the emotion in his embrace; she wasn’t oblivious to where he was taking her. All of the pain and joy of the past few months was about to come to fruition and there was nothing she could do about it. Men had fought and died for her. She would not disappoint no matter if her heart was breaking or not. Tears found their way onto her cheeks as she touched David’s hand.
“I can never thank you enough for what you have done,” she looked at Geist also. “For what both of you have done. You have saved my life and Rhys’ life and I shall ever be in your debt.”
David could hear shouts coming from the castle, knowing that the king’s men had regrouped and were coming for them again. Now that the arrows had stopped flying and they realized an entire army hadn’t set upon them, they had their wits returned and were ready to do battle.
“We expect great things from you, my lady,” David said. “You may thank us with your fair and just rule.”
She nodded her head, sighing sadly. Rhys squeezed her gently and turned the charger in the direction of freedom, but Geist stopped him.
He had been watching the exchange between Rhys and the lady, the sorrow bleeding out from their actions and expressions. He had seen a good deal of the emotion between them earlier when he had been in the vault; Rhys was so very gentle and caring of her, and she gazed at him with such adoration that it made Geist feel like an intruder just to be witness to it. He’d seen such emotion in Wales when Conrad had first met Carys; the more time the two of them spent together, the more obvious it was how alike they were. Conrad was a spoiled boy that tried hard to do good. Carys seemed to bring out a maturity in him that was promising. He also knew of the prince’s proposal to Rhys and de Lohr; he had been there to witness it. To know that these four people would soon be miserable did not seem fair in the least no matter what royal blood or thrones were involved. Unless….
“Wait,” Geist said, struggling through his broken English to find the correct words. “Prince Conrad… I was there when he told you of Carys. I know what he asked of you.”
Rhys stopped short of spurring the horse on, surprised at the sharp change in subject. In fact, it stumped him to the point where all he could think to say was, “What?”
Geist spoke urgently. “I know that Conrad loves your sister. He wishes to marry her. He made an offer to you once; I heard him. Have you considered it?”
Rhys realized what he was speaking of; he remembered that the man had accompanied Conrad into that warm, stale stable on that wintery night. But bringing up that particular conversation, at this moment, had Rhys more on edge than he already was.
“Why do you ask such things?”
Geist smiled weakly. “Because now is the time to ask; would you consider Conrad’s proposal?”
Rhys appeared at a loss for words, eyeing David for a moment and not sure if the man had any knowledge of the prince’s proposition. He wasn’t sure if Christopher told him and it would take too long to explain. His answer was delayed as more shouts could be heard in the castle and Geist suddenly
spoke swiftly.
“We all know that you love Lady Elizabeau,” he said. “We have seen this from you for three months. Everyone knows. We also know that Conrad loves your sister and wishes to marry her. He does not want to marry your lady. He asked if you would switch brides; your sister for the lady. Will you do it?”
Rhys’ gaze grew intense as the voices from the castle drew nearer. “It is not my decision to make. Even if I could, how would…?”
Geist interrupted him. “David and I can tell Conrad and Lord de Lohr that you and the lady perished. If you take her now, no one will ever know. And Conrad can be free to marry Carys.”
Rhys cast a glance at David, who looked back at him with astonishment. Elizabeau, all of this being new information to her, gasped with surprise.
“Conrad is in love with Carys?” she turned to Rhys. “Does she love him in return?”
Rhys was still staring at David, ignoring Elizabeau’s question completely. Even as shouts abounded as the king’s soldiers drew closer, he couldn’t help the sense of elation and hope he felt. It was soaring to the sky, growing brighter with each passing second. As the day dawned bright and clear, Rhys’ anticipation of the possibility surmounted his devotion to his country, his ruler, and even God. He wanted it so badly that he ached.
“David,” he whispered. “It would not be treason. No one would ever know.”
“Are you mad?” David hissed. “I cannot give permission for such a thing and you know it.”
“But it makes all the sense in the world,” Rhys persisted. “Elizabeau and I will flee to France or Saxony and assume an entirely new life while the prince can marry my sister and give her such status and wealth as she has never dreamed. David, it is a chance for all of us to be happy. Please don’t deny us.”
“But you are gaining happiness at England’s cost,” David pointed out, though not too strongly. “Elizabeau is our hope for a new monarch and a new life for England. What happens if she does not assume the throne with the prince?”
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