Arissa
raced down the small corridor leading to the massive oak door; beyond lay the
North York moors and Richmond. Around her, she could hear screams and shouts as
the nuns cried alarm, but she was unconcerned with their panic as she dashed
for the door. She was only concerned with her own terror and the fact that Tad
was determined to do her great harm.
Her
pace came to a panicked halt as she fumbled with the lock on the oak panel,
heavy with age and size. The door was bolted and she struggled to dislodge the
lock, acutely aware of Tad's approaching footfalls.
Time
passed as she wrestled with the iron bolt. A shriek came to her lips as she
heard his heavy boot falls beside her, closing in. She was trapped.
"Try
to flee from me, will you?" he slapped her on the cheek, forcefully enough
to bring a trickle of blood as her teeth carved into the soft tissue of her
mouth. Grabbing her brutally, Tad forced his captive to meet his gaze.
He
smiled devilishly, his gaze roving her beautiful features. "I am pleased
to see that you have grown more beautiful since we last met," his
breathing was harsh, his face pale with exertion. "So you are surprised to
see me? Fortunately, your lover failed to complete his act of vengeance against
me and it is my pleasure to be able to seek revenge against him by stealing
what is most precious to him."
Arissa
shook her head with disbelief and horror. "You cannot steal me, Tad. I
belong to Whitby!"
His
smile vanished, a malevolent gleam in his eye. "And I told your father that
he was a fool for committing you to the church when a woman of your beauty
should be savored and enjoyed. Something I would wager Richmond le Bec has
already indulged in."
She
struggled against his mighty grip in an attempt to break free. "You are
mad!"
His
grip tightened and he moved to pull her close, attempting to kiss her
blood-streaked lips. But she spit at him, spraying his flesh with saliva and
blood, and he hissed angrily.
"I
shall teach you the meaning of madness, bitch,” he snarled. “Know that I have
come from my death bed to capture you, to plan a diversion for le Bec while I
waited for you in the abbey disguised as an injured traveler. I fooled the
witless nuns into sheltering me so that I could lay in wait for you, knowing
you had to make an appearance sooner or later with le Bec as your escort,"
he calmed strangely, gazing at her frightened beauty. "I mean to have you.
All of you. I knew it from the moment I first lay eyes upon you."
"Is
that what all this is about?
Having
me?" Arissa shook her head,
bewildered and terrified. "You have violated an abbey, Tad. The wrath of
the church shall come down upon you and your family, and there will be no
protection from their anger!"
Tad's
jaw ticked. "There will be no proof of my presence or my transgression.
Especially after I burn the abbey to the ground and her occupants with her, there
will be no witnesses left to identify me," keeping a firm grip on her arm,
he jerked the iron bolt free of its lock. Casting a lingering glance to Arissa,
he smiled wicked. "You shall enjoy me, love. I am quite good, I am
told."
Her
expression rippled with loathing. "I simply cannot believe that you would
come all the way to Yorkshire simply to abduct me. You are supposed to be dead."
A
flash of madness ignited in his sunken eyes. "Le Bec's men were off their
mark, damaging my shoulder and nothing more. Even so, I was only able to arrive
yesterday and pray that I was not too late," as if suddenly remembering
his fury, his grip tightened and he yanked her against him harshly. "No
more talk. You and I have a date with destiny."
She
opened her mouth to protest as he jerked open the door, but what wait on the
other side of the heavy oak panel did not surprise her.
Richmond's
sword was raised in an offensive stance. Tad caught a glimpse of the glistening
metal and was wise enough to surmise the situation. With lightning speed, he
pulled Arissa in front of him to act as a human shield; thrusting her forward,
he expected her to meet with le Bec's fatal downparry.
Richmond
was a hair’s breadth away from striking Arissa but veered off at the last
possible second. Off balance and filled with terror, he stumbled sideways as he
narrowly avoided slicing her in two. Heaving with shock and horror, he raised
his faceplate to her swollen, bleeding face.
"Dear
God...," he gasped, swallowing the bile that threatened to erupt.
"Kitten, are you badly injured?"
She
shook her head, her pale green eyes filling with frightened tears. Richmond
emitted a ragged sigh, struggling to return his focus to Tad. The moment he
gazed at the man, he felt his loathing and determination return tenfold.
What
had begun as a moderate game of abhorrence had transformed into something so
malignant that he was not at all concerned with the repercussions his actions
against the de Rydal heir might have. He did not care if Lambourn and Goring
Hall remained embroiled in a bitter feud for all eternity as a result of his
deed. He was going to kill the bastard and enjoy every minute of it.
Tad
smiled thinly, stroking Arissa's arms in a seductive manner purely to enrage
Richmond. "So you discovered my plot, le Bec? I am not surprised, although
I expected you to be involved with the battle time enough to allow me to
escape. But no matter; I shall be allowed to go on my way or the lady will meet
with an ugly beating. Right before your eyes."
Richmond
struggled to maintain his composure as Tad attempted to kiss the side of
Arissa's head, only to be met by a slap. She squirmed and shrieked, trying to
pull free, but he simply laughed and tightened his grip. "I shall wager she’s
not so resistant to you, Sir Richmond. In time, I am sure she will show me the
same eager response."
"You
shall never leave this place alive," Richmond growled. "Release her
and I shall end your life mercifully."
"I
think not. Move aside or the lady will suffer."
Richmond
took a deep breath, shifting on his thick legs. He seemed to be calming,
refusing to look at Arissa lest his composure dissolve completely. As long as
she was relatively unharmed, he could handle the negotiations with Tad without
an overly emotional reaction. But the struggle to maintain his control was a
constant, unnerving battle.
He
had been shocked to realize the de Rydal heir had masterminded the ambush. He
had been led to believe that the arrogant young knight had one foot in the
grave, hence Ovid de Rydal's attack against Lambourn. Even though the man
before him was pale and drawn, he was alive nonetheless and fully capable of
executing an organized abduction.
Too
weak to fight in the battle he had staged as a diversion from his true goal,
Richmond had suspected early on that, somehow, he had unknowingly delivered
Arissa into Tad's waiting arms.
Tad
knew that Richmond would remove her from the battle zone, and the abbey had
been a most logical destination. Relying on his healing injury, Tad had
acquired the nuns' sympathies in order to gain entrance to Whitby to wait for
Arissa.
He
was sorry that he had not realized the plan soon enough to foil Tad's kidnap
attempt. But no matter. What the earlier ambush by unknown parties had failed
to complete, Richmond would gladly finish. Gazing calmly into Tad's eyes, he
could only envision the man's death.
"Nay,"
he replied slowly. "I shall not move aside. And the only person to suffer
shall be you."
Tad
cocked an eyebrow. In a flash, he unsheathed a small dagger lodged within the
plated sections of his armor. Pointing the tip against the curve of Arissa's
slender torso, he applied pressure until she winced with pain. Richmond
clenched his teeth so tightly that he bit his lip as he watched Arissa squirm
with agony.
"Move
aside or I swear I shall cut her. Do not push my patience, le Bec."
The
sharp point of the dirk broke through the material of her surcoat and Arissa
yelped when the razor-edge punctured her skin. All color drained from
Richmond's face, staring at Tad as if to look right though him.
"You
have already pushed mine."
A
thin wail suddenly pierced the damp air, growing louder by the millisecond. The
smug expression faded from Tad's face as he identified the sound, knowing it
was meant for him, and knowing it was already too late to save himself.
Grasping
the hilt of the dirk as the last fractions of his life ticked away, he prepared
to drive the weapon deep into Arissa's body when he suddenly emitted a harsh
grunt and lurched forward, sending a terrified Arissa to her knees.
The
dirk fell to the moist earth and Tad fell beside it, the brutal sounds of death
gurgling deep within his throat. Shrieking and gasping, Arissa turned to
witness a large arrow protruding from Tad's neck in the precise seam where the
helm met the body armor. Even as Richmond swept her into his arms, she
continued to watch as Tad de Rydal drew in his final breath, the sightless blue
eyes closing forever on a world that had permanently evaded his grasp. The
first arrow a week prior had missed its mark; the second arrow did not.
Clinging
to Richmond's neck, Arissa turned toward the direction the arrow had come in
time to see Gavan emerging from behind the parked provisions wagon. A Welsh
crossbow lodged in his two-fisted grip, his handsome face was taut as he
lowered the weapon. His jaw ticked furiously as he looked down at the man whose
life he had been forced to take.
"Rot
in hell, you miserable bastard,” he rumbled.
Arissa
was trembling so violently that she could barely respond to the man who had
saved her life. Turning from Gavan's angry face, she collapsed in sobs against
Richmond's shoulder; she'd come too close to death to react in any other
fashion.
"Shush,
kitten," Richmond murmured, his own body quivering with emotion. "All
is well. He cannot hurt you again."
Arissa
continued to sob, bordering on hysteria as Gavan approached. After a moment,
she felt his gentle hand on her back.
"I
killed him for you, Riss,” his voice was hoarse. “You do not have to worry
about his spoiled antics any longer."
She
was incapable of replying; with one arm about Richmond's neck, she extended the
other hand to Gavan and he caught it tightly within his grasp. Her silent
thanks moved beyond the scope of words, her fear and relief palpable.
Emma
and a few nuns had spilled forth from the interior of the abbey, torn between
the horror of what had occurred and the relief that it was over. Sobbing with fear,
Emma moved toward the small, shaken group with hesitant steps, wanting to be
comforted just as she wanted to give comfort.
Hand
to her mouth as her eyes spilled over with tears, she came to an unsteady halt
a few feet away from Arissa and the knights, too reluctant to proceed any
further. She had not lived through the terror as they had; therefore, they were
entitled to their own brand of grief. As an outsider to their pain, she simply
stood by and watched.
Gavan
caught sight of her, turning his ashen face to gaze upon her fair loveliness.
After a moment's hesitation, he extended his free hand to her in a gesture of
welcome to their exclusive clique.
Even
though she was desperate to comfort Arissa, Emma found herself reluctant to
accept Gavan's invitation purely for the fact that it would prove to be both
wildly easing and desperately grieving at the same time. Selfish ideals
consumed her as she gazed at the knight, thinking only of herself when she
should have well been considering Arissa. To be embraced by the man who had
spent the past few weeks reluctantly escorting her northward was nearly more
than she could bear.
Emma
was not daft. For the sake of her own sanity, she was coming to resign herself
to the fact that she and Gavan would never know happiness within each other's
arms. Whitby, in fact, was the perfect opportunity for her to escape her dreams
of a man she could never have. Even now, as she stared at his outstretched
gauntlet, silently beckoning her to partake of his strength and comfort, she
knew the point of separation had to be emphasized for the sake of her rejected
heart. Turning away, she hadn't taken two steps when strong hands were suddenly
grasping her.
"Riss
needs you, Emma," Gavan said gently, winding his massive arm about her
shoulders and turning her in Arissa's direction. "Be brave, my lady. All
is well now."
Emma
looked up into his magnificent face, her confusion and emotions rendering her
weak as she caught sight of the rarely-experienced warmth within his eyes.
"She....
she has Richmond,” she said softly. “She does not need me."
Gavan
nodded faintly, his grip on her tightening. "Aye, she needs you, love.
Come along and render comfort."
Love.
He called her
love. Emma's heart soared and sank with the joy and agony of it all. Before
she could recover from his term of endearment, Gavan had maneuvered her against
Arissa and the two ladies burst into a fresh chorus of sobs as their terror
found its release.