Carolyne Cathey (43 page)

Lady Mellisande
laughed.  "Why would they fear treason when you are already as good as
slaughtered and your head impaled upon a pike at the London gate?"

Readying for any
chance to resist, Eleanor mentally scanned the chamber for anything that might
be used as a weapon.  She frantically pictured what lay at her back, at her
side.

Lady Mellisande
drew a knife from her sleeve, the blade flashing death in the fire's light. 
"Now, Edward, I suggest you ponder your gruesome fate while I enjoy myself
with this slut who sought to ruin our future.  I should slay her with more
kindness since she opened the gateway to the throne."  She grinned. 
"But I won't."  Mellisande lifted her dagger in salute.  "To the
whore who thought to become a lady."

Eleanor forced
her chin to a defiant angle.  "You make the word,
lady
, an
obscenity.  You are as insane as Brigham."

"I'll start
with your tongue."  Mellisande stabbed at Eleanor's face with her dagger.

Eleanor lunged
for the poker, the cold metal reassuring in her damp palm.

One of the
knights stepped closer as if to strike.  Eleanor raised the steel rod.

Lady Mellisande
swiped the air with her hand.  "Nay, leave her.  She's mine."

Perspiration
trickled down Eleanor's temple.  Her heart might burst, the thing beat so hard
from fright.  Knowing the poker gave her a longer reach than Mellisande,
Eleanor struggled to steady the weapon she held like a sword, but even so she
didn't doubt her fate.  Six to two didn't leave much hope.

Firelight
flickered along Mellisande's dagger as she swung the blade in front of her,
awaiting the moment to attack.  "'Tis your fatal blunder, whore.  If you
hadn't come, Kyle would never have made that wager; he would never have defied
his king.  And I wouldn't be a King's-death away from a throne."

Mellisande
slashed, wild, frenzied, her amber eyes luminous like the flames.

Eleanor swung the
poker and grazed Mellisande's shoulder. 

Mellisande leapt
back.  "Curse you to perdition!  Someone hand me a sword."

Terror scraped
along Eleanor's nerves.  Perspiration stung her eyes, but she dared not blink. 
She willed the poker to not slip in her damp palms.

Suddenly, the
garderobe curtain sailed over a knight's head and Kyle rushed into the chamber
like a black-robed avenging angel, his sword already drawn, a mace clutched in
his other hand.  "Eleanor!"

Her heart both
leapt for joy and plummeted in fear, colliding into a cramp within her chest. 

The knights
whirled to Kyle.  Brigham swung the crossbow in her direction.

"Don't move,
anyone, or I'll shoot Eleanor."

Edward hesitated,
his sword half-drawn.  Kyle lowered the mace and sword to his sides, but she
saw how tightly he gripped his weapons, ready to strike if given the chance. 
Eleanor near doubled over with fear.  The bolt of the crossbow quivered as if
eager to taste her blood and anticipating the slightest ease of Brigham's
fingers.

Brigham gloated
with fiendish victory.  "You're trapped, Kyle. Just like the adders and
rats in the pit where I hid Eleanor."

Kyle's eyes
widened in further shock, then narrowed into darker hatred.

Brigham laughed
at Kyle's response.  "Aye, brother.  All three of you will die, and then
I'll throw your bodies into the viper's den and watch as you're devoured.  But
before I castrate you and cut out your heart, you'll watch Mellisande carve her
name into Eleanor's flesh, and then shove her into the hearth-fire.  You'll
hear the green-eyed witch's screams, see her flesh melt.  Then--"

"Burn in
hell, Brigham!"  Kyle swung upward with his mace and jarred the crossbow. 
The bolt thunked into a rafter.

Eleanor flinched
at the ring of sword against sword as men leapt to slay before being slain like
the death struggle in the pit.  As Brigham drew a sword, Kyle swung his mace at
an attacking knight.  The man groaned, then collapsed.  King Edward shouted and
swiped at another knight with his sword.  The knight shouted a curse, then
counter-attacked.

Mellisande sliced
at Eleanor's face.  Startled to defensive action, Eleanor swung the poker and
hit Mellisande's hand.  The dagger clattered to the floor.  Mellisande reached
for the weapon, but Eleanor kicked the dagger into the coals.

"You
slut!"  Mellisande screamed like a banshee and lunged.

Eleanor
sidestepped.  Mellisande reached for Eleanor, stumbled, then fell into the
flames that leapt and surrounded her head and torso as if starved.

Horrified,
Eleanor yanked on Mellisande's feet and dragged her onto the hearthstone. 
Eleanor's stomach jolted from the sweetish smell of burnt flesh, from the
gruesome sight of blistered skin and flaming hair, from Mellisande's screams of
anguish that echoed against the stone walls while she writhed in agony on the
floor.

Bile heaved to
Eleanor's throat and she instinctively grabbed for a blanket to snuff the
flames.  How close she had come to that same fate. 

A sword clattered
to the floor as Brigham threw himself to his knees beside the woman he loved. 
"Mellisande!"  He lifted her and doused her against his body, but her
face and hair still smoldered, her torment a keening wail from her disfigured
mouth. 

Eleanor's
attention flew to Kyle as he leapt over the bed and stabbed the knight who had
knocked King Edward to the floor, then he swung the mace behind him to catch
another.  Three white-robed knights now lay in bloodied heaps.  The fourth
attacked Kyle from behind.

"Kyle, at
your back!"

Kyle ducked and
swung, but the knight leapt out of reach.

The door shook
with thumps from the other side.  "What goes on in there?  King
Edward!" 

The fighting
barred Eleanor's way to the door, but she might stop Brigham from killing
Kyle.  As the pounding and shouts increased, Eleanor tightened her grip on the
poker and glanced down at Brigham.  He huddled over Mellisande while she
twisted and shrieked in his arms.  With tears rolling down his face, he held
the point of a dagger over where her heart would be if she had one.  Then he
plunged the blade. 

Mellisande
lurched, then her burned head lolled against Brigham's chest as blood seeped
from her own, but Eleanor could swear she heard Mellisande still screaming from
the Netherworld, as if for her sins, forever.

Brigham tilted
his head back and howled his grief like a savage beast, the blade of his dagger
dripping with Mellisande's blood.

With Kyle's life
in mind, Eleanor raised her arms to slam the poker atop Brigham's head. 
Brigham's eyes flashed realization, then he dodged, catching the rod and
wrenching the poker from her hand.

"You'll
burn, witch!"  Enraged, Brigham leapt to his feet and shoved her toward
the fire.

Eleanor stumbled,
frantically reaching for anything to stop her fall.  Her head hit the hooded
hearth.  Pain exploded down her spine; lights flashed behind her eyes.  She
gripped the edge with her fingers, willing them not to slip even as her legs
turned to water, feeling the heat from the flames, knowing with Brigham's next
push . . .

Kyle roared, then
he grasped her waist and pulled her from in front of the fire, setting her atop
the wooden chest that rested beside the hearth. 

"Nay, Kyle! 
The witch will burn!"  Brigham's demented declaration resounded off the
stones.

Eleanor's throat
tightened around a scream as Brigham raised his sword to cleave Kyle in two.

Kyle spun and
deflected Brigham's blade and the sound of metal echoed in her ears.

Brigham swung
wild.  "You always take what is mine! You took Trystonwood, and now you've
taken Mellisande!" 

Kyle shifted his
stance, circling his prey.  "Eleanor, are you all right?"

She struggled to
breathe past the sharp pain in her head and back.  "Aye."

The door shook
harder with thuds from the outside as if the men used a ram.  If she could but
reach the bolt.  Eleanor pushed up from the chest.  The room spun, but she
forced her stone-like foot to take a step.

Between the door
and the bed, King Edward and the last knight grappled with their bare hands. 
Within the haze of her mind she wondered what had happened to their weapons. 
She forced another step. 

Kyle swung at
Brigham with the fury of an animal hungry for blood.  Brigham deflected the
sword with his blade, but the power of Kyle's force jolted Brigham backward and
Eleanor knew Brigham didn't have a chance against Kyle's power and experience,
against his hatred.

"Lay down
your sword, Brigham."

"After
you're dead, Kyle.  After Eleanor's dead."

Eleanor forced
another step; she must reach the door.

King Edward
shouted.  His attacker raised a dagger.

Kyle whirled and
slashed.  The fourth knight fell. 

As quick as a
viper's flash, Brigham grasped Eleanor's hair and yanked.  "You!  You've
ruined all!"  He swung his sword to cut off her head. 

Eleanor screamed
with realization of certain death.

Shock marred
Brigham's face as his sword clanged on the floor.  He groaned, then folded like
a dropped cloth on Mellisande's feet.  A red stain spread from the dragon on
Brigham's back into the rushes as if the beast bled.  Blood stained Kyle's
blade, his hands, the white cross on his surcote.

Kyle dropped his
sword and pulled her hard against his body.  "Eleanor, are you
harmed?"

Eleanor's stomach
roiled.  She could only shake her head in response.  Somehow, with his arms
around her, the pain eased and she sank against his body.

Kyle moaned and
nuzzled the top of her head.  "'Tis over."  He sounded about to
weep.  "At last, 'tis over."

The door cracked,
then split.  The bolt gave way and the wood crashed against the wall.  Sir
Jerrod and other armed knights rushed through like wolves to the kill.

Eleanor saw King
Edward roll to his knees, then stand, his hand pressed against his forehead. 
"Put your weapons away, men.  'Tis finished."  He gestured to
indicate the carnage.  "Find someone to clean up this mess."

Kyle nodded to a
pale and obviously shaken Sir Jerrod.  "Find the pit where Brigham held
Eleanor.  Throw their bodies in, then torch the hell hole.  'Twill be a fitting
grave.  Afterward, seal it and disguise the opening so no one will ever find it
again."

Sir Jerrod
shuddered.  "A suitable kingdom for the bastard and his . . ."   He
glanced at King Edward, then his throat bobbled as if he swallowed his words. 
"And his paragon of virtue."  He followed the men who lifted the
bodies and carried them from the chamber.

A shudder flowed
through Kyle's body.  "Someone douse the hearth-fire and remove the ashes,
then bring a brazier to the chamber and fill the hamper with hot coals."

Eleanor lifted
her chin and saw that Kyle had closed his eyes as if he hid from horrid
memories.  She cupped her palm over the twitch in his clenched jaw.  "My
brave knight.  You need not order such extremes for me.  True, 'tis a painful
memory, but--"

A shudder quivered
his body against hers.  "I'll never be able to see another fire without
seeing you tied to that stake amidst the flames."  He tightened his
embrace and nuzzled the top of her head, surrounding her with his protective
strength, his love.

Eleanor rested her
head against his chest and closed her eyes, thanking God for another miracle.

Edward released a
ragged sigh.  "You and I seem to have despicable luck with our blood
relations, Kyle.  Well, if you will escort me to the stables, I think we need
some fresh air.  The smell of death and burnt flesh sits not well upon my
stomach."

Kyle stepped back
from Eleanor, leaving her chilled, but grateful.  "Aye.  'Tis a good
suggestion."

King Edward
slapped Kyle on his back.  "My suggestions are always good, Kyle.  I'm the
king.  Which reminds me.  Earlier, I asked Eleanor that if you had to choose
one of us to save, which you would select."

Kyle hesitated,
then lowered his gaze to hers, and winked.  "Why, both of you, of
course."   

"But, when
you stormed into the chamber, you called Eleanor's name and never once
mentioned mine."   He spun on his heel and strolled through the doorway.

"King Edward
. . ." Kyle groaned, then grasped Eleanor's hand and followed.

Ecstatic with
life, Eleanor felt a renewal of energy as she ran to keep up with Kyle's and
King Edward's long strides through the crowded solar and great hall.  She
stepped through the entry onto the porch and drew cold air into her lungs. 
Sunrise glowed in greeting, the sky all tinged the rosiest of hues, a new day,
a rebirth of hope.

Edward paused and
clasped his hands behind his back.  "Kyle, I apologize for my apparent
lack of support when we visited last eve in the solar with Mellisande and
Hanley.  I suspected collusion, so I decided to await the moment, to catch them
as they began the treachery.  I hadn't counted upon two armies.  My troops were
busy with Lord Hanley's, thus my delay on the field.  Jerrod rode with the
news.  I'm thankful I wasn't too late.  If aught had happened to you, you would
have been sorely missed."

Kyle tightened
his grip upon her hand as he focused his attention on the king.  "I
couldn't have lasted much longer, my lord.  I'm grateful for your
support."

"Well, Kyle,
I suppose you'll expect another reward."

"Nay!  I
never asked for the first reward, and the honor near cost me my life as well as
Eleanor's."

"But,
suppose I insist."

Kyle groaned. 
"Not again.  Please, King Edward--"

"Then, I'll
choose."

Might the King
have a suggestion in the direction of Eleanor's fantasies?  She held her
breath.