Perils of Wrath

by Park, Elsie

  Autumn was the first to spot their group. Yelling Andrew’s name, she ran to her brother, nearly knocking him over as she hugged him tight.

  At Autumn’s joyous shriek, Gail’s head jerked up, seeing them from where she tended to an old man. She left him in the hands of another servant and ran over, her eyes sprouting tears. Audri placed the crossbow and lever on a nearby table and threw her arms around Gail, hugging her.

  “You’re back. You’re back,” Gail bawled with sheer relief and joy. “I was so worried.”

  Audri squeezed her friend, her own eyes watering as she remembered the ordeal she’d just come through and was grateful to be home. She almost laughed at that. She had always hesitated to call Guildon home, but now she felt like it could actually become one.

  “Don’t I get a hug?” Heath asked Gail.

  She pulled back and looked at his dirty tunic. “Not until you’ve had a bath.”

  “But Lady Gibbons is filthy and you embraced her,” Heath complained.

  “Merciful heavens!” Gail gasped, seeming to notice Audri’s soiled state for the first time. “What did that brute do to you?” She gasped again. “Is that blood? It’s all over you. And your neck. What happened?” She looked behind them toward the tunnel. “Where is that monster?”

  “Gail, Gail,” Audri said, placating the frenzied woman with a gentle hand on her shoulder. “I’m fine. Truly. Most of the blood isn’t mine—”

  “Most?” Gail almost shrieked.

  “I’ll explain everything in due time, but right now Sir Heath’s injured head needs tending.”

  Gail turned to him again, her eyes widening at the dried blood framing his face and the crimson-soaked cloth in his hand. “Oh, Sir Heath, I’m so sorry. I didn’t notice, and I can’t imagine how, as it’s all over the top end of you. What can I do to help? What be your needs?” she said with sincere longing.

  “A kiss might help,” Heath said.

  “Be serious,” Gail returned, her pinched mouth adding to her incredulous expression.

  “I am serious, woman,” Heath said. Not waiting for a response, he grabbed Gail around the waist and pulled her to him, his lips coming down on hers.

  Audri smirked, noticing Gail didn’t try to pull back. When Heath broke it off, her friend’s face was flushed red.

  “Well,” Gail cleared her throat. “I hope that indeed helped your needs.”

  He frowned. “I don’t know . . . I’m still feeling a bit deprived. Maybe another—”

  Gail’s eyes widened. “Surgeon!” she yelled across the cavern. “Your skills are required!”

  Heath and Roland laughed.

  When the barber surgeon arrived, Gail brought Heath’s injury to his attention.

  “This way, Sir Heath,” the man said, pointing to a space set apart with soap and water. “Let’s clean that wound properly so we can see what we’re dealing with.”

  Heath winked at Gail before walking away with the man. Roland took Audri’s hand and squeezed it before following Heath.

  “Is this your doing?” Audri asked Gail, indicating the makeshift infirmary with a sweep of her arm.

  Gail shook her head. “No, it’s your mother’s.”

  Audri lifted her brow and glanced around again, delighted in the operation her mother had organized. Roland was right. Honora had fortitude in her.

  Audri sobered. “Where is she, by the way?”

  Gail’s eyes glanced around the dungeon. “Hm. I thought she’d be back by now.”

  “Back from where?”

  “She went to check on Festus, to make sure he was still asleep.”

  “How long ago?” Audri’s heart thumped a little faster.

  “I can’t be sure. I’ve been so busy down here, but mayhap fifteen minutes ago.”

  Audri felt uneasy. “I’m going to go check on her, see if she needs anything. Let Roland know where I’ve gone when they’re done with Heath.”

  Gail nodded as a moan from an injured man turned her attention. She left to tend to him.

  Audri took four steps toward the door, then paused. She couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that something was wrong. Turning back to the table, Audri took the armed crossbow in hand and swiftly left the dungeon, ascending the stairs two at a time.

  Chapter 19

  Audri stepped onto the level where Honora and Festus’s separate chambers were located. Her heart hammered from the exertion of running up the stairs, so she paused, forcing her breath to slow by blowing it out through puckered lips. She commenced walking down the corridor, listening.

  She fingered the crossbow. Was she being silly with her feelings of unrest? Was she being overly cautious? She shook her head. One can never be too careful where Festus is concerned.

  As she rounded several corners, she caught an echo of a voice. She drew closer and realized it was Festus. He’s awake. Audri swallowed nervously. Who is he speaking to? A servant or my mother? She increased her pace to a swift walk, the voice becoming more amplified as she closed in on it. Her ears caught his scattered words as they bounced off the stone walls.

  “Witch . . . drugged me . . . pay for this.”

  The words Festus spoke told her it was indeed Honora in the room with him. The sound of a slap resonated through the hallway followed by a thump. He just hit my mother! Audri took up a run as Festus’s tenor turned from annoyed to livid. Full sentences were now apparent, though they seemed a little slurred. Probably from the drug not quite out of his body.

  “My guards informed me of what you did! The dungeon! My prisoners! My prisoners! How dare you take that authority upon yourself, you sniveling wench!” Another slap.

  Audri reached the open door, quickly taking in the scene.

  Close to the opposite wall, Festus stood with his back to the door, his feet apart and his hands on his hips as he hovered over her mother who was lying on the floor, her arms covering her head to protect it from further assault.

  Audri seethed and stepped through the doorway. “Get away from her!” she yelled, bringing the crossbow up to eye level and aiming it at Festus. Her mother’s head turned slightly beneath her arms as if she wanted to look at Audri but was too afraid to expose her face to further attack.

  Without turning around, he yelled, “Stay out of this! It’s no concern of yours!” Clearly, he thought she was a servant.

  Audri took another step forward. “My mother is my every concern,” she said.

  Festus turned. The face that had been twisted in wrath turned to astonishment at seeing the woman he thought he’d gotten rid of. He swayed slightly, catching his balance by placing a hand on the table beside him. He was still coming out of his drugged state. “You’re . . . you’re supposed to be—”

  “Gone? Out of your life forever?” Audri sneered. “Well, I’m not, and I’m telling you that your days of abusing my mother are done. Step away from her or—”

  “You’ll what?” Festus interjected. “Shoot me?” He laughed, swaying again. His hand knocked over an empty goblet on the table in his attempt to steady himself. The cup rolled to the edge of the table, but a carving knife prevented it from falling to the floor.

  Audri’s eyes moved to her mother, who had uncovered her head and was tentatively sitting up. A large red welt tinged the left side of her relieved face.

  “Do you think a few measly months of training makes you a warrior?” Festus snorted. “Stupid female. Do you even know how to use that thing?”

  Audri glared at him. “Careful, Festus. Your perverted view of women will be your undoing.”

  “How dare you threaten me!” he hollered, but then Audri saw it . . . just a spark, but it was there all the same, just as Roland had said it would be.

  Fear.

  Festus feared her. It was evident in his eyes, his face, his stance. He tried to conceal it with anger, but the dread
was there. This gave her confidence and courage.

  Audri glanced at her mother again. Honora had gotten to her feet and was stepping away behind Festus.

  “Where’s Doyle?” Festus demanded. His nervous eyes darted from Audri to the doorway and back to her again.

  “His blood stains my tunic,” Audri affirmed. “Will yours also be shed? It’s your choice.”

  Festus’s eyes widened. “You think you can kill me and not reap the penalty?” he yelled. “My people are loyal and will kill you if—”

  “Your people are only loyal to the fear you’ve instilled in them!” Audri yelled back. “It will hold no power once you’re dead.”

  The panic in his face showed that he knew it was true.

  “Cursed harpy!” he shouted. “I should have gotten rid of you the day I found out you weren’t this witch’s child!”

  “Do not insult my mother,” Audri said, her tone laced with warning.

  “She’s not even your blood, why do you care?”

  “Your black heart couldn’t possibly understand,” Audri said, her malice tinged with the slightest pity.

  “It’s . . . it’s over, F-Festus,” Honora’s soft, nervous voice said behind him to his right. She stood with her chin held high, though her eyes betrayed her unease.

  His head turned to Honora, his face contorted in anger against her. “Do not dishonor your superior!”

  Audri saw Honora flinch, an ingrained reaction after years of mistreatment. But then Honora’s eyebrows drew together, and her lips pressed together in a clear effort to muster her courage. “You . . . you know nothing of honor,” she derided shyly, her lip quivering with pent up emotion. She straightened her back, stood a little taller. “No decent man would ever lift a hand to his wife in rage.” Honora’s face hardened, her hands balling into fists at her sides. “No worthy man would force a woman into submission with his strength and fury.” Her voice grew stronger. “No proper man would cut a woman down with threats and hurtful words.” Her eyes, losing some of their previous fear, regarded him with steady resolve. “No, Festus, you know nothing of honor . . . or love.” Her chest heaved with the adrenaline of facing her nightmare head on.

  Her gaze connected with Audri’s, and Audri sent her mother an approving nod.

  “How dare you talk back to me, wench!” Festus snarled, bringing the women’s eyes back to him. He was losing control over his wife, and Audri knew that scared him. Losing control of his surroundings made him lose control of his emotions . . . and with him that always led to physical violence.

  As Festus grabbed the carving knife from the table, sending the metal goblet clattering to the stone floor, Audri aimed the crossbow at Festus and yelled, “Run!” to her mother. Audri’s finger twitched at the trigger, but then Festus moved between her and Honora. Audri cursed under her breath and let off at the last second, not wanting to risk her mother’s life if the bolt passed through Festus. She stepped to the right to get Honora out of the weapon’s sight, but Festus was soon between them again. Festus lunged toward Honora and sliced the blade from right to left. She barely dodged an injury to her side as she jumped back against the wall.

  Festus moved to pursue but stepped on the goblet and stumbled, giving Honora time to move along the wall and put some distance between them. Audri again took aim at Festus, but with a growl, he quickly regained himself and stepped between her and her mother as he went after the petite woman. Audri didn’t dare drop her weapon to attack him barehanded, nor could she sufficiently aim at the moving target. She fought down her frustration.

  “Festus, stay yourself or you’ll die!” Audri yelled from the other side of the room, hoping he’d chance to stop his pursuit, but pure rage had overtaken him and he ignored her.

  Honora soon found herself trapped in the far corner with Festus still between them. Honora pushed up against the stone wall, her panicked eyes darting right and left, looking for the escape that wasn’t there. He was a few feet away from Honora, the knife raised above his head.

  Audri stepped to the left so her mother was finally out of the line of fire, and then focused on Festus’s head; it was a small target, but all her weaponry studies had taught her that the deadliest way to end a battle was to smite your opponent’s head. His movements made it difficult to aim, but she couldn’t wait any longer or her mother would be dead. She released a breath as she pulled the trigger.

  The bolt shot from the crossbow with a thunk-whoosh, cutting through the air and crossing the room in less than a second. It cut through the left side of Festus’s neck and out the other, embedding itself into the stone wall beside him.

  Festus dropped the knife, bringing his hand up to grope at his neck which was spurting blood from both holes. A gurgling noise accompanied the breaths he tried to take. He turned to Audri, his cruel eyes unforgiving. He sank to his knees, his gaze becoming glassy and hollow before he fell forward, his body hitting the stone floor with a thump.

  “Audri! Oh, Audri!” Honora ran to her.

  Audri rested the weapon on her right shoulder, supporting it with her right arm. Her left arm opened wide to embrace Honora. “It’s over,” Audri said, her own eyes watering for the hundredth time today. “You’re free of him. Free of him forever.”

  Honora held tight, crying into Audri’s shoulder. Audri kissed the top of her mother’s head.

  “You know . . . the truth,” Honora wept. “Did you know before Festus said it?”

  Audri nodded. “Yes. From your written confession.” She drew back, keeping her hand on Honora’s shoulder, and gazed into her tear-streaked face. “It deterred the trade, mother. All is well.” Honora seemed to be holding her breath, waiting for Audri to say more, to confess her true feelings. “The truth changes nothing between us. Nothing. I love you. I always have, and I always will.”

  “Oh,” Honora cried with relief, new tears running down her cheeks. “I love you, too, sweetheart, more than life.” They embraced again.

  The sound of pounding boots echoing down the hallway turned their attention to the door. Audri tensed and stepped in front of Honora, shielding her with her body. Was it a guard come to reap vengeance on his lord’s attacker? She pointed the unarmed crossbow at the open doorway, cursing the fact that she didn’t have an extra bolt.

  Roland rounded the corner, rushing into the room with his sword drawn. At the sight of the crossbow pointed at him, he eyes widened. He immediately ducked and turned to the right before he realized who wielded it.

  Audri lowered the weapon. “It’s all right, Roland. It’s unarmed.”

  Roland closed his eyes and nodded before taking in the sight before him. His eyes rested on Festus’s body, the man’s head and chest lying in an expanding pool of blood. Roland sheathed his sword and turned a sympathetic gaze on Audri and her mother, extending his hand to them. That’s all it took to fully unravel Audri’s emotions. Her face pinched up, and her lips quivered.

  Setting the crossbow on the floor, she ran into his arms, letting the tears flow unrestrained. Roland wrapped his strong arms around her, his hand stroking her back as it shuddered from her breathy sobs. She turned her head to the side, resting her cheek on his mail-covered chest, the scent of cloves calming her nerves. No words were needed. To be held by the man she loved was enough.

  Honora stepped over to them, placing her gentle hand on Roland’s arm. “Thank you for bringing her back.”

  Audri felt him nod at her mother. Audri pulled back and wiped her wet eyes. Roland cupped her cheeks with his hands. “Come, let’s get you cleaned up,” he said with quiet reserve. “It’s been a full day.”

  Audri let out a half-cry, half-laugh. “A full day indeed, and one I pray we’ll never repeat.”

  Roland had just finished blotting the last of his letter with a cloth when there was a knock at his chamber door. He set the quill down on the table next to the ink pot. “Enter,” he ba
de, turning to the closed door.

  It was pushed open, and Audri stepped into the room. She wore clean gray chausses and a white tunic, ready for training. Her sword hung from a belt cinched around her trim waist.

  He motioned for her to come sit at his table. As she made her way over, he lifted his parchments and tapped their sides on the table to square them up.

  Audri sat down opposite him, and he caught a trace of lemon. It had become his favorite aroma. She watched his movements as he rolled up the parchment pages and cinched the scroll with a strip of cloth tied around its center.

  He glanced at her. Her pensive expression told him there was something she wanted to share. “What are you pondering, Audri?” he asked, laying the scroll next to the quill and ink.

  Her eyes met his. “I talked to my mother about the circumstances surrounding my birth and our subsequent situation here.”

  “Oh?” He leaned back in his chair, his fingers folded together across his stomach. He was sincerely interested in the details.

  “As I guessed, my mother has always been unable to have children of her own. She longed for them so much that the anguish nearly tore her apart. Her husband at the time, the man I thought was my birth father, was kind and understanding and loved her dearly.” She smiled sadly, no doubt sorry she hadn’t known him better, or at all.

  “My mother’s personal maid, Millie Fairchild, had conceived a babe with her husband, Thomas. Thomas died before the babe was born. Those people were my birth parents.” Audri gave Roland a thoughtful smile. “My mother loved Millie, looking after the widow just as Millie loved and served her lady in return. I came into the world a week before I was expected, Millie being in Honora’s room at the time. Honora put Millie in her own bed where Millie gave birth to me. But Millie, continuing to bleed, knew she was dying. She entrusted me to Honora before she passed away, and Honora raised me as her own.”

  Audri turned her head and looked out the window at the gray sky.