The Faithful Heart (44 page)

Simon struggled to his feet as his son
charged at him shouting wordlessly, dagger raised over his head.
Simon brought his blade up to fend off Roderick’s attack with a
clang and spark. Jack yanked the crossbow bolt from his thigh with
a strangled cry. He jumped to his feet, blood running from his
shoulder and leg, sweat smearing the soot on his face.

Roderick’s attack drew Connor’s attention
away from the burning buildings. With a vicious laugh he broke away
from the melee near the house to charge towards Jack and Simon.
“With me!” he shouted to whichever of his men would take up the
call.

Jack gripped his sword with two hands and
bared his teeth as Connor charged. When the man got close enough
Jack swung as hard as he could. Connor fell, but whether it was a
blow from his sword or one of the hail of crossbow bolts that
rained on them he couldn’t tell. He didn’t stay down though. With a
snarl he stood again.

Another bolt ripped through Jack’s shirt,
tearing a chunk out of his side. Simon raised his sword to attack
Roderick but jerked and stumbled. Two bolts jutted from his back,
one near his neck and the other below his waist.

“Simon! No!” Jack shouted and took half a
step towards him before being forced to spin around and defend
himself against one of Connor’s goons.

Simon rallied and continued to battle
Roderick feet away. Roderick slashed at him with energy but no
skill. Simon used every ounce of his strength to parry the blow,
defending himself and trying to work up the will to attack. “You
don’t need to do this son!”

“I’m not your son!” Roderick spat back,
spinning around and using the momentum to strike at his side.

“You will always be my son!” Roderick avoided
meeting his eyes. “You were my son on the day you were born into
this world,” he grunted and dodged a sloppy jab. “You were my son
the day we knew you were healthy, that you would live.” Roderick
stumbled back, panting and flexing his hands around the hilt of his
dagger as he stared at the blood seeping through his shirt. “I am
so sorry, Roderick. I failed you as a father. I failed in so many
ways. But I forgive you, son, I forgive you for all of this. No
matter what you have done, you will always be my son!”

Roderick lowered his arm and groaned in pain
as Simon’s words hit him harder than any sword stroke. Jack thrust
his blade through the gut of one of the mercenaries and tried again
to come to Simon’s aid. There was no time.

“You turned me in!” Roderick’s voice cracked
as he shouted.

“I reported Lord Hugh’s murder,” Simon shook
his head. “I would have protected you if you hadn’t run!”

His eyes flickered up to meet Simon’s. For a
moment it looked like Roderick believed him. The moment vanished
and his face contorted in fury. “You betrayed me when everything I
did was for your sake! I have no father now!”

Roderick raised his dagger again with a roar
and charged at Simon. Simon dodged, but bleeding from two crossbow
bolts in his back he was not fast enough. Roderick slashed across
his arm and chest. Simon only managed to hang onto his sword by a
thread. He couldn’t raise it again before Roderick spun and slashed
at his head. Roderick lost his balance and instead of being a
killing blow the point of his dagger cut across Simon’s face,
splitting his cheek from his ear to his nose. Simon’s head whipped
to the side with the blow, leaving him completely off-balance when
Roderick raised his arms and thrust.

Jack wrenched his sword out of the body of
the man he’d just killed and pushed him over with his foot in time
to see Roderick’s blade stab into Simon's chest. “No!” he shouted,
eyes popping wide as he scrambled away from the man who had started
towards him and lunged to swing at Roderick instead. He hit the
young man across the shoulders as he pulled his dagger out of his
father.

Simon crumpled to the ground as Roderick
stumbled to the side. Jack pushed on, bringing his sword crashing
down on Roderick as the young man defended himself with wide,
startled eyes. He wheeled around and thrust. Roderick only just
managed to send the wild blow glancing off to the side with his
dagger before backing up so fast he nearly fell over himself.
Terror replaced vengeance on his face and rather than mounting a
counter-attack he screamed and dropped his dagger, scrambling to
turn and run.

Jack chased after him for three steps before
desperation over Simon made him skid to a halt and change
direction. He spun back to his friend who lay on his side in a
heap, blood staining the dirt under him. Jack was forced to change
direction once again as a hollering mercenary threw himself at him.
Reacting on pure adrenaline he parried the blow and circled his
sword around to thrust at the attacker. The man was startled by the
show of skill and force and was too slow to defend against the
second attack aimed at his arm. He dropped his sword with a shout
as Jack cut him to the bone.

Another mercenary took his place. Without
time to breathe Jack brought his sword up to defend against the
blow aimed at his head. He swung his attacker’s sword around,
kicking the man away as he lost his balance.

He had time to take a single step closer to
Simon’s body before another man came out of nowhere and he defended
against a hard attack from his right. The blow pushed him back
further but as he slashed at the man to fend him off yet another
attacker surged at him from the left. He spun to meet that attack,
steel clanging against steel, only to have to swing around and meet
the blow of the man on his right. If only he had time to pick up
the sword Simon had dropped. He fought both men as best he could,
catching a third running at him out of the corner of his eye. He
braced himself for the impossible, braced himself for the
inevitable.

Without warning the man on his right crumpled
to a heap and the sharp ring of steel stopped the third man from
reaching him. He could only blink before spinning to thrust at the
man on his left. That man was distracted by the large flash of
black and dropped his guard long enough for Jack’s thrust to hit
home. His sword sunk into the man’s chest and he fell back with a
gurgling cry. Jack wrenched his sword out and turned to find
Crispin slashing at one of the other attackers.

Jack tried to say something, but all that
escaped from his lungs was a shapeless bellow of emotion at seeing
his friend. The thread of hope that had been crushed flared back to
life. It twisted in his heart like a dagger when he glanced down
and saw Simon. He jumped towards the man, squatting and dropping
his sword so that he could hold Simon's head in his hands.

“Simon!” he shouted at his friend’s pale
face. “Simon!” To his shock, Simon’s eyes fluttered. He laughed at
the sight. His eyes shot up to survey the battle around him. A
crowd of dead men surrounded them as Crispin battled with the one
last man standing. Beyond them, nearer to the house, part of the
battle raged on. Villagers defended their homes with ancient swords
and scythes. They fought like lions but were still outnumbered.

He pulled Simon’s arm around his neck and
grunted as he hefted him over his shoulder. Crispin finished off
the man he was fighting with one final thrust then spun to face
him. “This way!” he shouted as Crispin stooped to pick up as many
stray swords as he could.

They rushed towards the storehouse. Crispin
wrenched open the door as Jack stumbled through with Simon, then
slammed it behind them. The dimness of the storehouse was as good
as pitch black and he staggered forward, sinking to his knees and
half laying Simon on the ground, half throwing him as he collapsed
himself. They were met with screams of shock and panic from
Madeline and Joanna and a bellow of pain from Aubrey. Crispin
dropped his armful of swords and flew to Aubrey’s side, falling to
his knees and throwing his arms around her with a groan. She
clasped him just as tightly and let herself cry.

“Simon! Simon!” Madeline shouted, half mad,
eyes wide in panic when she saw nothing but the blood drowning him.
She turned her frantic eyes to her husband, clutching at him with
one hand and her rosary with the other as she joined him sprawled
on the floor. “Jack?”

He tried to speak but couldn’t catch his
breath. Madeline crowded closer to him and he turned his head into
her skirt, clutching at the fabric of her shift and coughing
through painful gasps as he sank to lay by Simon’s side. He just
needed a minute to recover, he told himself. He would be fine if he
could just lay there for a second, if he could breathe.

The clattering and crashing of the fight
outside was growing nearer with every second that passed. He knew
he didn’t have the time. Every muscle and bone in his body aching,
he tried to roll over and raise himself to his hands and knees. His
body wanted to give up. He grasped Madeline's skirt with both hands
to anchor himself. Her gentle scent was the only link to life that
he had at the moment.

His eyes hadn’t adjusted all the way when
there was another loud bang and the storehouse door flew open. He
spun, grabbing for his sword, and Crispin wrenched himself from
Aubrey’s arms and to his feet. “Ethan!” Joanna’s startled shout
broke the silence. “Toby!” She ran forward and flung herself into
her brother’s outstretched arms, erupting into tears. “I thought I
would never see you again!”

“Me too!” Toby admitted, hugging his sister.
When he let her go he pushed her back to arm’s length, face grim as
death. “Lydia knows we’re all in here.”

Joanna’s eyes snapped to Ethan’s. He stood on
one foot, turning to shut the door and bar it with whatever he
could find. He lowered his head in shame as everyone stared at him.
The sight broke Toby’s heart.

His sister had a different reaction. “You
bastard!” she shouted and ran at him. “This is all your fault! You
and your stupid obsession with Windale!”

“No, Joanna,” Toby tried to stop her.

“You told them we were here, didn’t you?
Didn’t you!” The words weren’t enough. She pulled back and slapped
him. His head whipped to the side, eyes closed in misery,
red-rimmed and streaming.

She balled her fist and pulled back again,
but Toby threw his arms around her and lifted her out of the way.
“Joanna, no,” he spoke soothingly in her ear. “No. Let him be.
Can’t you see he’s hurt himself more than he’s hurt you?”

Joanna struggled out of her brother’s arms
and spun to glower at him. “Of course you would say that! You
defend him in everything! You take his side in all things! Even
when he’s wrong! Even when his pride is about to get us all
killed!”

“He never means to hurt anyone, he just
does.”

“I’m sick of listening to you defend him!”
Joanna shouted. “I’m sick of watching you eat your heart out for
him, year after year, leaving me to follow him to the ends of the
earth for something you’re never going to get!”

Toby’s hands went numb, his face pale. As
much as he wanted to, he couldn’t bear to glance to Ethan. He
couldn’t bear the truth that was about to come out. “I love him!”
he cried from the bottom of his mangled heart, squeezing his eyes
shut as soon as he’d said what he’d promised himself he would never
utter aloud.

“He can’t love you back!” Joanna shouted even
as she broke down. Her whole body wracked with sobs of anger and
pity and guilt.

“I know,” Toby strangled out his cry of
defeat. “Don’t you think I know that?” He forced himself to raise
his eyes to meet those of the only person he had ever loved. Ethan
stared back at him with wide-eyed shock. Even shattered into a
thousand pieces, bruised and defeated, he was the most beautiful
thing Toby had ever seen. “I know,” he whispered, nodding
painfully. “I know.”

Ethan swayed forward, mouth falling open as
he searched for something to say. Whatever he would have said was
cut off by the swelling cry and clamor of the men that surrounded
the storehouse. Their bellowing, ribald voices shook the foundation
of the building. Aubrey let herself cry out with the pain of
contractions that were too close together. Crispin crouched beside
her, undisguised terror in his eyes.

Jack lunged to the door, looking out for a
moment then turning to pull Madeline across the room to where Simon
lay. “It’s Lydia,” he hissed.

“We know you’re in there!” Lydia called from
the clearing outside of the storehouse. “There’s no point in
hiding. So why don’t you all just come out and we’ll kill you
quickly, alright?” She sounded like she was having the best day of
her life

Toby tore his eyes away from Ethan’s and
hugged Joanna as she trembled with rage and fear. Crispin smoothed
the damp hair off of Aubrey’s forehead and kissed her before
standing and turning to face the others. “There has to be a way to
get the women to safety.”

“We’re surrounded, mate,” Jack shook his head
in reply. He pulled Madeline into his arms. “I’m not leaving my
wife.” Madeline sobbed and trembled in his arms.

Crispin turned back to Aubrey, their eyes
meeting. “Neither am I. Never again.” He sank to his knees at her
side.

“Come on, Jack!” Lydia taunted them. “You’re
wasting my time as usual. Let’s get this over with, shall we? I
have a manor to rebuild!”

“Right,” Jack drew in a breath. “We all rush
out together. Maybe some of us will make it. Oy, an’ leave Lydia
for me!”

“Tom is on his way!” Toby stopped the mad
plan in its tracks. “Tom is coming with an entire army. They were
right behind us. They should be here any minute.”

“I hate to break it to you,” Jack shook his
head, stepping away from Madeline and bending to pick up a sword
with each hand, “but we don’t got a minute, mate.” He moved to the
door and looked out through a crack.

“Do you see them? Do you see Tom and the
Windale men?” Ethan rushed to stand beside Jack, looking out over
the engulfed village and the crowd of mercenaries.