Sworn Loyalty - A Medieval Romance (22 page)

Erik led them through the door and slowly, carefully, up the stairs, stopping every few steps to listen. When they reached the top he quietly approached the door and peered around it. He smiled back to Mary. “All clear,” he reported. “They must all be out in the courtyard making their preparations.”

They stepped into the small chamber, and Mary took a look around the low fireplace, at the small table and chair.

Erik raised an eyebrow. “I don’t suppose I could convince you to wait here,” he murmured.

A fierce anger swept through her. “After all I went through, do you think you could –”

He gently shushed her, drawing her in against his chest, soothing her. “No, I didn’t think so,” he agreed. “Just stay on the steps, like last time. Let me see this through.” His gaze grew serious. “If they take you hostage, and threaten your life –”

She nodded in understanding. “I will stay clear of the fighting,” she agreed. “I know, in my current state, that I could too easily fall.”

He took her hand in his, gave it a squeeze, and together they pushed open the door.

Chapter 17

Mary blinked in surprise at the scene before her. The courtyard was ringed with torches which blazed brightly against the night sky. The moon was high overhead, and stars twinkled in festive abandon. Men were standing on all sides drinking mugs of ale and gnawing on skewered meat. A pair of men were strumming lutes and singing a bawdy song. By all looks it was a night of a winter faire, with a full fifty men carousing and enjoying the celebration.

Then Caradoc spotted them, taking in Erik’s sword and the spray of blood covering his body. His yell brought instant silence across the courtyard.

Caradoc stalked across the uneven stones, and the men fell back into a ring. The gleam of stares was bright in the ebony night, a circle of eyes, all focused with delighted anticipation.

Caradoc came to a stop before them, his face glowing with fury. “I should have known better than to trust that blonde trollop,” he ground out, his eyes fixed on Erik’s. “She will get her just reward soon enough. But right now, this is between you and me.” He looked around to the ring of watchers. “Men, you were cheated of your arena before, when Erik escaped from our clutches. It looks like you’ll get a special treat tonight! Blood will flow!”

A rousing cheer went up around the courtyard, and mugs were raised in celebration.

Caradoc waited for the noise to subside before turning to Erik again. He eyed him for a long moment, the corner of his mouth turning up. “Speaking of blood, I bet your mother never told you.”

Erik kept his sword in a guard position, his eyes not leaving Caradoc’s. “Told me what?”

Caradoc chuckled. “Of course she didn’t. It would have marred her perfect image. Did you know that you were nearly my nephew?” He gave a snort. “Wouldn’t that have been something? That aunt of yours was inches away from becoming my wife before she took that tumble.”

Erik stilled. “You were harassing my Aunt Avoca?”

Caradoc’s barrel chest rumbled with laughter. “Oh, I don’t think the woman considered it harassment,” he grinned. “She rather enjoyed the attention. Always in the shadow of her older sister, she was. Your mother was domineering; poor Avoca never had a chance. She was a ghost of a woman.” His grin widened. “At least until I got involved.”

Erik took a step forward, his gaze hard. “What did you do to her?”

Caradoc’s eyes twinkled in delight. “Oh, nothing that any man in the world hasn’t done once or twice. I convinced her that she should seek some pleasure in the world. That she should think of herself for once, and not put that damned Lady Cartwright first all the time.”

Erik’s voice was a low growl. “You drove her to jump!”

Caradoc’s brows raised in surprise. “Me? I wanted the woman alive and wearing my ring! That way when your mother suffered an untimely death, sweet Avoca and I could act as your regents, and take control of the keep in your name.” He rolled his shoulders to loosen them. “Then, of course, something tragic would have happened to you as well.”

He held Erik’s gaze for a moment, his eyes narrowing. “No, if anyone was responsible for Avoca’s death, it was that mother of yours. Somehow she found out that Avoca was planning on eloping with me, and she tore into her sister something fierce. Berated her. Ridiculed her.” The corner of his mouth tweaked. “Well, you know how your mother was.”

Mary looked between the two men in shock. As much as she wanted to accuse Caradoc of making the whole wild tale up, the truth of it echoed in her core. Lady Cartwright had always seemed wracked with guilt on the anniversary of Avoca’s death. Mary had wondered if it was simply the sadness of an elder sister who had not done enough to watch over her younger sibling – but it had seemed much more than that.

Erik took another step forward, keeping himself between Caradoc and Mary. “You would have cut a swath of death through my family,” he growled. “It is only fate that you were held to one victim.” He gave his sword a spin. “This ends here.”

Caradoc reached his hand down to draw his own sword – and instead he snatched the dagger from his belt, whipping it straight at Mary’s chest. Erik leapt left to block it with his own body, and the blade drove deep into his left arm. Caradoc was arcing his sword high, driving to cleave Erik’s head in two, but Erik swung his blade to intercept, continuing to dive left, causing Caradoc’s blade to slide down and off.

Caradoc gave a snorting laugh. “That woman is your weakness,” he taunted.

Erik shook his head, resettling himself into a low stance. “She is my greatest strength,” he countered. “I would die for her.”

Caradoc chortled. “I will be happy to help with that.” And then he dove in.

Mary could not move, could not leave the steps from which she watched the battle. The drugs still held her in their grasp, still caused the world to fade in and out, and she knew she would cause more harm than good if she tried to interfere. But her soul wrenched in twisting agony as Caradoc drove hard at Erik, his barrel chest and beefy arms hammering as surely as if he were flattening an axe blade on a smithy’s anvil. Erik was quick, precise, but blood trailed steadily from his left arm, and his movements were infinitesimally slowing with each stroke.

Mary took in Erik’s dragging reactions, the slight stumble in his footwork, and it suddenly struck her that she might have been hanging in that dungeon, drugged, for days. Had Erik gotten any sleep at all in that time? How many miles had he ridden, what had he driven himself to before beginning tonight’s battles?

There was a hoarse cry, and Mary’s heart stopped. The men had separated and were staring intently at each other. It took all of Mary’s self-control to stay where she was, to resist the urge to run forward to be at Erik’s side.

Then Caradoc sagged to the ground as if all the strings holding him upright had been cut through with a razor. His eyes stared into the cobblestone ground and lost their focus.

The men in the ring went silent in shock. The only sound Mary heard was the wild beating of her heart. Then a throaty roar of anger rose, threatening, echoing, circling the courtyard.

Mary’s blood ran cold. There was no way they could hold out against this many men.
No way.

Erik put two fingers into his mouth and let out a high, piercing whistle. And then it was as if the very earth answered him. There was a trembling, the torches in the ring shivered, and a thundering noise filled the air. Caradoc’s men looked around in fear, and then through the gates of the outer wall burst a wall of horses. Mary spotted Michael, Lord Paul, the sheriff, and a wealth of familiar faces.

Relief coursed through her as the incoming forces swept through the bandits, mowing them down. Erik took up a station before her, preventing any from reaching her to use her as a bargaining tool. It seemed only moments before the sounds of battle had subsided, before there were only the whinnies of horses and muted conversations.

Michael strode to her side, drawing her into his arms. “God’s teeth, are you all right, lass?” He ran a hand down her hair, shaking his head. “When I realized you had gone, I was beside myself with fury. I could not believe they had stolen you under my very nose. I thundered through that gate without a second thought, desperate to get to you before he could harm you.”

“I am fine, truly I am,” she reassured him. “They did not hurt me.”

Lord Paul joined the group, giving her a fond pat on the shoulder. “I knew you’d hold up,” he smiled. “Toughest woman I’ve ever met.”

An arm slid along her waist, and Erik was by her side. “It is time to get our tough woman back home, where she belongs,” he added with a weary smile. “I think we have had quite enough of this place to last a lifetime.”

The sheriff spoke up. “The local church has asked to use the stone to build their new church. I think it’s a fine idea.”

Erik nodded. “Take it down. Take the whole thing down.”

Mary looked to Erik. “And Sander?”

Michael was tying a bandage around Erik’s arm, and glanced up at that. “Last we heard, he was half-way to Scotland. Apparently he has cousins up there. So that much, at least, was true.”

And what of Lynessa?

Mary’s throat closed up. She knew she should ask, but she could not bring herself to mention the woman’s name aloud. She seemed a force of nature, malignant, unstoppable.

Erik’s eyes creased in concern, and then he sighed and drew Mary in hard against him. “Lynessa is long gone,” he promised her. “She was one for subtle manipulations, not open conflict. She will undoubtedly flee to Gaul, or Rome, or to some other far-off place to hatch new schemes. She knows her plots here have failed for good.”

Mary could barely speak. Lynessa had been such a potent force in her life for so long; she could hardly believe that it was finally over. “But what if she returns?”

He gently kissed her forehead. “Then we shall bring her to justice.”

An ache pulled at her heart. “But you – you cared for her.”

He shook his head. “When I was hanging on that dungeon wall, it was as if everything else was stripped away. Clarity swept through me. I could suddenly see everything she had been doing, see it as if it were etched in glass, realized exactly the steps she was taking.”

It was almost too much for Mary to take in. “But you said – you said that you half-believed she was innocent.”

He ran a hand tenderly through her hair. “I said that when I was taken at the church that I still had a kernel of doubt,” he gently corrected. “But locked in the dungeon, with all else lost, and only my death before me, I saw things for what they truly were. I realized that I had never loved Lynessa. I had only built a childhood fantasy around her, and then clung to it. I realized how, even when we first met, she had manipulated me and guided me.” He tucked a hand beneath Mary’s chin, raising her eyes to hold his. “I am only sorry I did not realize that years before, and come home to apologize to my mother. To meet you.”

Tears were streaming from her eyes, she raised her lips, and then they were lost in each other.

Chapter 18

Dawn was easing golden shafts of light over the tower’s crumbling curtain wall when they set in motion toward home. With the adrenaline of the fight several hours behind her, Mary found she was beyond exhausted. It was all she could do to keep herself in the saddle. Erik rode by her side, and she knew he had to be even more wrung dry than she was. Still, she could not have known it from looking at him. His stance was alert, and his eyes ranged from Michael’s men before them to Lord Paul’s behind.

Mary reached out to hold his hand. “The sheriff did say all of Caradoc’s men were accounted for,” she reminded him. “He had planned for this festivity to be sung about for centuries to come. Even more extravagant than his last one.”

Erik turned to her with a wry smile. “You mean greater than
my
death celebration?”

She chuckled. “Yes, that would have been the one,” she agreed. “I’m grateful neither festival went the way he planned it.” Her arm gave a twinge, and she winced. “This time, I was en route to being the main course.”

His gaze shadowed. “We were barely in time,” he murmured. “Another few hours and it could have been too late.”

She looked at him in curiosity. “So, how
did
you know that I had not run off to Scotland with Bronson? Lynessa was fairly sure that her cover story was foolproof.”

Erik glanced forward to Michael for a moment. “I wasn’t sure what exactly you had been up to, this past week, but I at least felt assured that Michael was involved with it. The only reason I went along with your requests was I knew Michael was watching over you.” He let out a long breath. “So when Lynessa and I came back from our ride, and the keep was in an uproar, my only thought was to find Michael. I knew once I found him that I would get the truth of the matter. To do anything else would be to waste critical time.”

“And Michael was riding north?”

Erik nodded. “Riding hard. So I pushed my steed to his very limits. I knew if I did not catch Michael quickly, your life would be forfeit.” He looked down and was quiet for a moment. “I overtook him just as dusk fell on the forest. In only a few minutes I had convinced him to tell me everything.”