Authors: Miriam Minger
Tags: #Fiction, #Historical, #Medieval, #General, #Historical Fiction, #Romance, #Historical Romance
"What kind of documents?" Guy cut in coldly,
his intuition pricked.
"Annulment papers for his sister. She has left her
husband, Lord de
Warenne
."
An annulment, Guy thought grimly. If not for what Henry
had told him, he might have truly believed Leila hated him. Now he could see
her actions for what they were, all part of a desperate plan to sway Roger
against fighting him in a trial by combat. If the annulment was approved, she
would be free to marry whomever that bastard chose for her.
His heart filled with anguish. Ah, my brave, sweet
love, did you so fear for my life that you would be willing to make such a
sacrifice?
Guy lifted the priest's trembling chin with his sword. "Hear
me well, Father Anselm. I am Lord Guy de
Warenne
.
There will be no annulment papers drawn up this night, for I have come for my
wife. You are going to help us get into the castle."
The rotund clergyman crossed himself several times,
gulping air. "
Wh
-
what do you want me to do?"
"I and one of my knights are going to ride with
you to the gatehouse. You will act normally and say only enough to have the
gate thrown open for us. When we are inside the bailey, get out of the way if
you value your life." His voice fell to a fierce whisper. "I warn
you, Father. I am willing to risk hell's eternal fire for my wife. If you give
us away, your blood will stain my sword."
"You need have no fear," the priest blurted. "I
will not betray you."
"A wise decision," Guy said, easing the blade
slightly away from the man's throat. "Now, I take it you know the castle
well. Where will I most likely find Lady de
Warenne
?
In the keep, or are there private chambers in the great hall?"
"She . . . she's in the keep's dungeon, my lord."
Guy stared at the man incredulously. "In the
dungeon?"
"Yes. Lord
Gervais's
men
told me she will be held there until she agrees . . . Oh, it is a terrible,
terrible business, but what can I do? I have no sway in such matters. I know
little else but that my lord wishes his sister to rid herself of the babe she
carries in her womb."
Guy's initial shock that Leila was pregnant with his
child was quickly swept away by blinding rage. It was clear Roger's greed and
cruelty knew no limits!
Sheathing his sword, Guy grabbed the priest by the cowl
and shoved him toward the horses, calling over his shoulder, "
Burnell
! You will ride with us. Bring me one of the dead
men's cloaks and you put on the other. Langton, see that the men are prepared
to storm the gate as soon as it is opened. Montgomery, take a half dozen
knights with you to the curtain wall and tell the men waiting there to forgo
the ladders and rush the gate as well. Go!"
A round of whispered "Ayes!" sounded in the
darkness as he
heaved
the fat priest into a saddle.
"Remember what I told you, Father," Guy
hissed, throwing the proffered cloak around his shoulders. He mounted and drew
his horse alongside the priest's. "One wrong word—"
"I-I have not forgotten, my lord."
Guy kept his head down as they left the cover of the
trees and rode up the barren incline to the gatehouse, he and Robert flanking
the frightened priest. His fury intensified as they drew closer, and when they
were almost at the gate, he tightly gripped the rains. His every muscle was
taut, his blood running hot in anticipation of battle.
"Name yourselves!" a castle guard demanded
from a lighted window in the gatehouse.
"Surely you can see who it is," the priest
cried, his voice quavering slightly. "Father Anselm! Open the gate. Lord
Gervais
has summoned me in great haste!"
Guy glanced at his knight as the immense timbered gate
swung fully open, a look of grim understanding passing between them. Together
they drew their swords and in the next instant, Guy's enraged battle cry
shattered the night's stillness. He was answered by the fierce shouting of his
men as they raced toward the gatehouse.
Spurring his horse forward, Guy cut down with mighty
strokes the astonished guards who rushed at him while
Burnell
slew the men who frantically attempted to close the gate. Screaming in terror,
the priest slid from his mount and took off running toward the great hall. He
began to wave his arms hysterically and yell that the castle was under attack.
Guy decided not to waste his time on Father Anselm. The
man's cries of warning came too late. Already his own knights and men-at-arms
were streaming through the gate, trampling the fallen guards and almost
slipping in the slick blood that covered the ground. It was clear from the
meager forces upon the battlements that Roger had not prepared for a surprise
assault. Blessed fool!
"Strike down any man who will not surrender!"
Guy shouted as his men surged with brandished swords across the
torchlit
bailey to meet those
Gervais
knights who were just now running from the hall. Still other de
Warenne
men forged up the stone steps to the battlements,
holding high their shields as arrows began to rain down upon the castle yard.
Guy chose a different path, riding hard for the
towering rectangular keep. His only thought was to find Leila.
Jumping down from the horse, he cursed as pain shot
like hot flames through his leg. He shoved open the arched door to the keep and
stepped inside, his eyes quickly adjusting to the hazy light cast by a single
hanging lantern. He was about to descend a flight of stone steps which he
believed led to the dungeon when a side door crashed open and Roger
Gervais
rushed into the room. The sword he carried was
dripping blood.
"So my priest saw fit to assist you and your men
through the gatehouse," Roger said harshly, his narrowed gaze full of
hatred. "My dead priest. He will not betray me again. Before I struck him
down, he told me you had come for your wife, de
Warenne
.
How did you know to find her with me?"
"Suffice it to say I know Leila's heart."
"And suffice it to say you will not be taking her
with you. Stand away from those stairs!"
Guy held his ground, his back against the wall and his
sword poised in front of him. "You would do well to surrender,
Gervais
. This battle has already been lost. Our sudden
attack has overwhelmed your forces. Throw down your sword."
"Surrender is a word unknown to me, my lord."
Roger's blade swiped menacingly at the air as he edged closer. "To fight
to the death has always been my creed, and so it is for my men as well. I think
you will find if you step outside the keep that the battle still rages."
"I will not leave this place as long as my wife is
in your dungeon,
Gervais
."
"Then die here!"
Cold steel rang out against steel, Roger's enraged
curses echoing all around them. The ferocity of his attack forced Guy to
retreat into the middle of the room and then onto the circular stairs which led
to the keep's upper floors. He backed up step after excruciating step, pain
ripping through his leg and sweat drenching him as he deflected Roger's vicious
blows.
"You should be the one to surrender, my lord de
Warenne
," Roger sneered, his breath coming harder as
he drove Guy relentlessly up the stairs, around and around. "You're weak.
I can feel it. I can see it in your face. That poison must have sapped your
strength. Give up now . . . while I might have a mind to let you live."
"And let you drive your sword through my heart
when I lower my weapon?" Guy demanded, responding with a wild thrust that
Roger barely managed to dodge. Swearing vehemently, Roger clutched his arm
where Guy's blade had sliced into his flesh, although he continued to swing his
sword in a wide, deadly arc.
"You were never the fool," Roger muttered
through clenched teeth. "These stairs make as fitting a killing ground as
any jousting field. My revenge . . . has been a long time in coming, de
Warenne
. Perhaps you would not have despoiled our
friendship so readily . . . if you had known it would one day lead to your
death."
"If by honoring
Ranulf's
dying wish I spawned your hatred,
Gervais
," Guy
countered, grunting with exertion as he parried a fierce blow, "then ours
was no true friendship. I think . . . it was not Christine you loved but her
rich dower. My supposed betrayal has not ruled your actions so much as your own
jealousy and greed! You forget that I, too, have a score to settle!"
Roaring in fury, Roger attacked him with such a
vengeance that Guy was forced to retreat still higher up the stairs, passing
the fourth floor. Fiery sparks flew as hard steel struck and scraped against
rough stone walls. Guy's ears rang from the clamor of battle. Ducking a savage
swipe, he swore loudly when he backed straight into a stout wooden barrier, and
he realized that there were no more steps to climb. They had reached the roof.
Swinging his sword violently at Roger to buy himself a few
precious seconds, Guy slammed his full weight against what proved to be a door
behind him. The wood splintered and gave away, and he tumbled onto a graveled
surface. Groaning in pain, he rolled out of the way just as Roger's sword came
down where his head had been only an instant before, and he hauled himself
quickly to his feet.
It was dark, but Guy could faintly make out his
opponent's massive silhouette from the light cast by torches far below in the
bailey. As he bettered his stance, he dragged in great
lungfuls
of cool air and fought against the weakness that was plaguing his limbs. A warm
wetness was oozing down his leg, and he knew that his wound had reopened, that
blood was soaking through the bandages.
"Come on, de
Warenne
!"
Roger shouted, his blade whistling as he swiped viciously. "So far this
battle has been no contest but a game of cat and mouse. Strike like a man, damn
you, or I shall feel I've killed a green youth and not a trained knight!"
Guy did just that, taking the offensive now that he had
ample room with which to maneuver. Their swords met again and again in the
darkness, grunts and curses and ragged inhalations of breath melding with the
sharp ring of clashing blades and the dim sounds of battle still raging below
in the castle yard.
Just when it seemed neither man could gain the
advantage, both being so well matched in skill and size, Roger again took the
upper hand, driving Guy almost to the battlement with his furious blows.
"Say a fast prayer, de
Warenne
!
Death is upon you!"
As he fended off a mighty swing, Guy's sword was
knocked from his grasp and clattered upon the stones a few feet away. He ducked
and lunged for his weapon at the same moment Roger rushed at him with a
bloodcurdling cry of victory. But with amazing swiftness Guy swept up his sword
and rolled free just as Roger's arm descended in a brutal downward thrust. In
an instant Guy was on his feet and smashing Roger's weapon from his grasp in a
blow so powerful that his arm reverberated with the impact. Then, without
thinking, bloodlust coursing through his veins, Guy clamped his massive hands
around Roger's
surcoat
, lifted him bodily, and, as
Roger's screams echoed in his ears, pitched him headlong over the battlement .
. . The abrupt silence seemed deafening to Guy.
Heaving for breath, he picked up his sword and went to
the parapet, where he leaned on the cold, damp masonry for support. Sweat
dripped onto his hands as he peered down into the bailey at Roger's broken
body. He felt no great sense of triumph. He knew it could have easily been
he
lying still and lifeless upon the ground.
As Guy wiped the sweat from his face, his gaze swept
the bailey. It appeared his men had subdued the bulk of Roger's forces. Many of
his knights, Robert and Henry among them, were busy rounding up prisoners near
the great hall.
His eyes were drawn to the slender figure of a woman
running toward the keep, her long blond hair flying behind her, and he
recognized Maude. She collapsed to her knees beside Roger and began to rock his
body back and forth as if she sought to rouse him. Suddenly she shrieked in
anguish at the realization that he was dead.
Staggering to her feet, Maude raised her clenched fists
at the keep. Her face was twisted in crazed fury as she shouted at him, "Murderer!
I curse you, de
Warenne
. Curse you! Your precious
wife shall die for this deed!"
Oh, God. Leila.
Guy's stomach roiled as Maude grabbed a blazing torch
from a bracket and disappeared into the keep. He rushed to the roof entrance,
and in his desperate haste, he nearly tripped as he vaulted over what was left
of the door. He began to run down the winding stairs, his blood pounding in his
ears, his heart battering against his chest. The pain in his leg was so acute
it felt as if sharp spikes were driving into his flesh with each step. But it
didn't matter. Nothing mattered but Leila.
He was only to the second floor when he heard terrible
screaming, shrill and high-pitched. The piercing sound sent chills down his
spine and filled him with dread. By the time he reached the ground floor, acrid
gray smoke was flooding up the narrow flight of stairs which led to the
dungeon.
As Guy took the steps three at a time, the smoke grew
thicker and he began to cough, his eyes stinging. The agonized screams grew
louder, more horrible. At the bottom of the stairs, the smoke reflected the
fiery orange of flames shooting out from an open cell. Terrified rats skittered
and squeaked around his feet. He raced to the door but was pushed back by the
intense heat. Then he saw a sight which flooded him with stark horror. He could
have been staring straight into hell.