Outside, the guard, ignoring her protests, captured her arm again and led her to Miles.
He smiled nastily. “So, as you hoped, your husband has come to claim you. But you will not be leaving."
Julie tilted her chin. “You didn't look like you relished fighting him."
"Lady, I am as good as he is, if not better. After today, both Barstow and you will be mine, so resign yourself to that.” The braggart had returned. His doubts of besting Nicholas had left him. Fear clutched her heart. Could Miles defeat Nicholas? She had not thought it possible having seen Nicholas’ expertise with a sword. But Eleanor had once said Miles was very good.
"Open the gates, lower the portcullis and the drawbridge,” Miles shouted to his guards. He led the way to the meadow beyond the keep, his forces close behind him. The guard towed Julie along in Miles’ wake.
Then the crowd parted, and she saw her love standing beside his horse, only a few yards away. Her heart nearly burst at the sight of him, dressed for war in armor and helm, his bright red tunic sporting his coat-of-arms, his sword belted over it. His visor was up, so she could see a little of his face through the opening.
Their eyes met. He started forward, but Sir Edgar gripped his shoulder. “Not until afterward, my lord. You must focus on the task at hand.” Nicholas nodded reluctantly.
Julie wanted her knight in shining armor more than ever. But first he must win the fight.
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Chapter 20
Miles stopped twenty feet away from Nicholas
"Bring Lady Julianne to me,” Miles ordered Sir Selwick.
Miles’ captain pulled her away from the guard, his cruel grip biting into her arm. It hurt, but she didn't protest. Miles enjoyed inflicting pain on people so she wouldn't give him the satisfaction.
Miles spoke softly to Sir Selwick. “Should I be killed or captured during the fight, you will kill Lady Julianne. Nicholas may win my holdings and lose his wife, or die and have her life spared. But he shall not have both her and my holdings."
Julie gasped. She opened her mouth to shout a warning to Nicholas, but Sir Selwick clamped his hand over it. “Be quiet,” he commanded.
Miles spun on his heel and stalked to where Nicholas stood. “Are you prepared to die, my lord?” he asked. With a raised eyebrow he added, “An honorable death, of course."
Nicholas said nothing, merely waited, his hand on the hilt of his sword.
Julie knew Nicholas would fight honorably, expecting Miles to do likewise. Or would he? He probably knew Miles’ nature better than she did. Wouldn't he at least be suspicious of his former friend's too generous offer. Don't take him at his word, she begged silently. Otherwise, Miles had just made certain, no matter the outcome, that Nicholas would lose something precious.
Julie yanked at her captor's rough fingers, but couldn't loosen their grip. She had to warn Nicholas. She tried to catch his eye, but his full attention was centered on Miles.
"Stop struggling.” Selwick grabbed a handful of gown and gave her a hard shake.
Anger surged through her body. He could hurt her baby. She kicked him hard in the shin with her heel.
"Merde!” He stopped shaking her body, but didn't release the hold on her mouth. She tried to bite him, but his hand held her lips tightly against her teeth.
"Mmmph!” she mumbled as loudly as she could, tugging hard, hoping to attract Nicholas’ attention. He must have heard, because he turned and started toward her. But two of Miles’ men stepped into his path, their swords unsheathed. He started to pull his own weapon, but Miles’ held up his hand.
Smiling thinly, he said, “Women are so distressed by fighting. My man will prevent her from crying out and distracting us."
Nicholas let his sword slide back in its sheath. “I think she is more distressed by being held prisoner than our fighting,” he returned angrily. His mind was racing. He stared first at the guard, then at Miles. His brother-in-law had to be hatching some scheme, one he believed would give him the advantage. But what?
His gaze returned to Julie who blinked furiously, stomping her feet. Something other than the man's grip seemed to be bothering her. Was she trying to warn him that Miles meant to fight unfairly? Well, he knew that.
"All is well, Julianne. Do not worry,” he called, hoping she realized he would not underestimate Miles’ probable lack of fair play. He turned back to Miles, his hand once again resting on the hilt of his sword. “I insist your man take his hands off my wife."
"He but restrains her from diverting your attention,” Miles replied smoothly. “You would not thank me if she called out and distracted you."
"You must think me a green lad to lose my concentration so easily."
Nicholas glanced over his shoulder and spied Rannulf. He jerked his head. The tall sergeant Nicholas had hired in London hurried to his side.
"You will watch the Lady Julianne while I am fighting. If she shows any distress, you are to use your men to lessen it. Am I understood?"
The big man nodded. “Aye, milord."
Nicholas swung his gaze again to Miles. “And do you understand as well?"
Miles stared at him for a minute, then called to the guard, “Loosen your grip a little, but do not let her speak.” He swung his gaze back at Nicholas. “I will not be distracted."
Reluctantly, Nicholas nodded his agreement. “But, if he hurts her..."
"He will not,” Miles assured him, a bit too smoothly.
Nicholas took one last glance around. He had hoped the two armies would not have to fight. No reason to kill innocent men for his personal quarrel. But if Julie were hurt, he would order his men to obliterate the other force.
Sir Edgar assured him the army was ready and eager to do battle. They stood behind him, a solid wall of fighting men, just waiting for his command to attack. The knights sat their horses in front, the archers to the rear of them. Up on the keep's curtain wall, Miles’ archers awaited an order to let fly their arrows. It could quickly turn into a bloodbath. Responsibility rested heavily on Nicholas’ shoulders, but nothing would prevent his doing what needed to be done.
Miles interrupted his thoughts. “If we are to fight, let us be about it. Lady Julianne shall stand quietly and await the outcome as befits a woman of her station. Otherwise, she will be returned to the keep. Your men do not need to watch her.” The smug expression on Miles’ face made Nicholas even more uneasy. The other man had something very unpleasant in mind.
He swung his gaze to Julie. “Julianne, sweeting, do as he says.” He lowered his visor. Sweat beaded on his forehead. As long as it stayed out of his eyes he could ignore it. More worrisome was what his gut kept telling him, an instinct which had served him well in the past. Something was wrong. What did this bastard have in mind?
Like a flash of summer lightning, it came to him. Sir Selwick would kill Julie if Nicholas won. Rannulf would need to move quickly indeed to prevent that. With a snarl, Nicholas drew his sword and faced Miles, hatred burning like hellfire in his heart.
As he raised his sword, Miles came at him with a two-handed slash.
He took the blow on the flat of his sword and countered with an overhand swing. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Selwick pull his dagger and hold it to Julie's breast. Would he really kill her when his own death was insured by doing so? Was he such a fanatic? The chance was one he could not take.
Grinding his teeth, Nicholas parried another blow, then stepped away so that Miles’ next swing fell short.
For several minutes, he allowed Miles to push him back toward his army. Content to let Miles exhaust his strength right now, Nicholas conserved his for later.
The warriors at his back kept shouting encouragement. They could see that so far, he only defended, not attacked, and they wanted him to close in for the kill.
"Have at him, milord!"
"Kill the blackguard!"
Another step back and Nicholas’ tripped on a half-buried rock. He nearly lost his balance along
with his head as Miles tried to cut between his coif and body chain mail. Nicholas swung up his shield, letting it take the blow while he recovered his footing. He danced to the side and Miles’ next downward cut missed entirely. The tip of his sword slammed into the ground and stuck fast.
Nicholas waited for the other man to pull it free.
Miles gave a nasty laugh. “Stupid move, Brother,” he said sarcastically, as he whipped his weapon up with both hands and brought it down in one long smooth move. Such was the force of the blow, that although Nicholas caught it on the flat of his sword, the impact numbed his right arm for a moment.
"Enough foolishness,” he muttered to himself, stepping inside Miles’ guard and whacking the other man's head with the side of his sword.
As Miles retreated shaking his head, Nicholas sneaked a quick look at Julie. She seemed safe enough for the moment, if one called having a dagger tip touching vulnerable flesh safe. He hoped Rannulf was ready to act if the need arose, because Nicholas was too far away to get there in time. If Julie were harmed, both Miles and Selwick were instant dead men.
Back and forth the two knights staggered. Once again, Nicholas allowed Miles to force him to retreat, defending himself, not taking the offensive.
Then, a particularly hard blow to his helm rocked him.
That's it. Nicholas took a deep breath. He had humored this dog long enough. In a whirl of blows, both overhand and underhand, he drove Miles back, step by step. His men cheered.
Miles parried the swings, but Nicholas could tell he was tiring from the amount of time he took to raise his sword after each hit. For just that reason, Nicholas had fought slowly at the beginning, conserving his strength for when it was most needed.
Miles’ men offered no encouragement to him. They just opened their ranks as Nicholas pushed the other man farther and farther into them. His anger fueled his arm, moving it faster and harder than before. Nicholas put all his own weight behind a vicious blow to Miles’ helm.
Miles staggered. Seeing an opening, Nicholas drove beneath Miles’ guard and with a swift uppercut, sent the other man's sword flying. It landed in a mud puddle. Miles lost his balance attempting to jump away from Nicholas and landed on his bottom in the same puddle. Nicholas stood over him, his sword at the base of the other's throat.
"Do you admit defeat?"
Miles’ reply had nothing to do with admitting defeat. “Selwick,” he yelled. “Do it.” Raising his visor he laughed at Nicholas.
"Admit defeat? Never!"
Nicholas turned just in time to see Julie's captor pull back his dagger. “Nay!” he shouted, the blood draining from his head and a dizzying despair gripping him.
Julie heard both Miles and Nicholas yell as she tried to free herself. Her captor tensed as he pulled his dagger back and upward to stab her. Nicholas’ men ran toward her, but everything seemed to happen in slow motion.
Just as the dagger started its downward stab, Julie felt something metallic drop into her hand as simultaneously Lily's voice said in her ear, “Rub the amulet."
She swiped her thumb across the warm stone. Instantly, her captor's hand was torn from her mouth, and his dagger ripped only her dress. She was no longer in the fields before Norville Keep, but lying on a bed. Stunned, she lay there for a moment, then sat up and glanced around.
This was her own bedchamber at Barstow Castle. She dashed to the window to check the bailey. Had she returned to her own time? No, Nicholas’ people were blithely going about their daily tasks. No tourist groups murmured or pointed. In one way, she was disappointed and in another, vastly relieved. Nicholas lived in this time, and he had become too important to her happiness to have him wrenched from her without at least a goodbye. Or a kiss?
She sank down on a stool and contemplated the fight. Had Nicholas killed the evil Miles or merely defeated him. Would he imprison Miles in the dungeon if he still lived? Her hand tickled. She looked down and saw the amulet had disappeared.
Then she remembered hearing Lily's voice. Had her friend really been there? Julie hadn't seen her, but the woman could probably make herself invisible if she wanted. Weeks ago, Lily had told Julie to call if she needed help. Julie didn't remember calling, but she surely had needed help. Another second, and that man would have plunged the dagger into her chest. She shuddered at the thought. She wanted to question Lily, but she needed sleep more than answers. She climbed onto the bed and closed her heavy eyes. Exhaustion wrapped around her like a blanket. So tired...
"Where is she?” Nicholas strode over to the man who seconds before had held Julie. Now he stood alone, guarded by Rannulf and his men-at-arms. The dagger rested on the ground at his feet, but Julie was nowhere to be seen. Nicholas snatched up the dagger and held it to Selwick's throat. “Where is she?” he repeated.
The man stood his ground. “I do not know. One moment I had my hand across her mouth and the next she just melted away."
"Melted away?” Nicholas scoffed. “Have you lost your mi...?” He hesitated. Much as he hated to admit it, ‘twas possible the rogue knight was not responsible for Julie's sudden disappearance. He had almost forgotten the witch Lily and the amethyst amulet, which could send people forward or back in time, and probably, from place to place. Could Lily somehow have given the amulet to Julie? And if so, why did her captor have no idea what happened?
Nicholas turned to Rannulf. “You watched my wife while I fought. What did you see?"
Rannulf scratched his head. “One minute she was there, milord, and the next she was not."
"I see.” And he did. He would have hugged Lily if the witch had chosen this moment to appear. Now he had to make sure Julie was safe. He would leave for home immediately.
Several of Nicholas’ men marched Miles over to him.
"Damn you, Selwick, what did you do with Lady Julianne?” Miles shouted.
"I...nothing, my lord. She just vanished."
"Vanished?” Miles scoffed.
"Mayhap she disappeared in the crowd of soldiers at my back.” But the man did not look convinced of that solution.
Miles’ scowl would have boded ill for his seneschal had either man been free. “I thought you had her captive."
"I did,” mumbled Sir Selwick. “I know not where she went. Or how."
"Enough!” Nicholas roared. “Take these two and bind them securely.” Rannulf and Yellow Curls took their weapons, bound their hands and led them away.
When Sir Edgar joined them, Nicholas said, “I would have you take charge of my sister's holdings.” He spied Eleanor coming toward them and beckoned.
"I will do so with great pleasure,” Edgar replied, his blue eyes flickering to Eleanor.
"Nicholas, I thank God you are all right.” His sister looked around, then asked, “But where is Julianne?"
"I am not sure.” He was, but the truth would be incomprehensible to the others.
"She disappeared, my lady,” Edgar said with a rare smile before Nicholas could reply.
Was there more warmth between them than the occasion demanded? Nicholas wondered.
Was that a blush on Eleanor's cheek as she offered the tall, dark knight her hand to kiss? Had Nicholas been missing something right beneath his nose?
While the two gazed at one another, Will came to take Nicholas’ helm and gloves.
"Sir Harald is with Lord Miles’ men. He is ordering them to serve Lady Eleanor and her new seneschal, Sir Edgar,” Will said, glancing at Eleanor and Edgar who were still staring into one another's eyes. “My lord, what is this ab—?"
Nicholas interrupted by clearing his throat. “They are pleased to see one another, Will. That is all.” And a great deal more, he suddenly realized. He had done his sister more than one disservice. Perhaps the man she could love and the one who could love her had been beneath their noses all this time. He would think more on this, then have a talk with Edgar.
He could not address their problems now. Julie must be found.
He motioned to Rannulf. The two stepped as
ide where they could speak privately.
"I am returning to Barstow without delay,” Nicholas said. “You and your men will accompany me. Be ready to leave in ten minutes. Sir Edgar and some of the others will tend to all the problems here."
"Do we bring Lord Miles with us? The men have got him trussed up like a chicken on a spit.” Rannulf's grin split his face from ear to ear. Obviously, he relished this duty.
"Aye. He will be imprisoned for his treachery."
Nicholas touched Edgar's arm. “My friend, send the army home as soon as you feel all is under control here. You will remain as seneschal. I am taking Miles and Selwick with me back to Barstow."
"But your lady wife?” Sir Edgar appeared puzzled.
"Somehow, I think she will have arrived there before me.” He hoped desperately this was true. There was only one way to find out.
"To me!” he shouted to the men who would accompany him. Two of the new knights joined Nicholas, leading horses for Selwick and Miles. The two prisoners, with their hands bound securely behind their backs, looked surly though resigned. Rannulf and his men brought up the rear.
The journey back to Barstow seemed interminable. After a few hours, Nicholas grew impatient. The foot soldiers could hardly keep up with the pace he set. He called Rannulf to him.
"I am going on ahead. Select two men to accompany me."
Rannulf pointed at Yellow Curls and another man who looked familiar to Nicholas, but whose name he couldn't recall. “Escort our lord,” he yelled.
Yellow Curls nodded. “Right y'are.” He yanked Miles and Selwick from their horses. and despite their protests at walking, the two men-at-arms mounted and fell in behind Archangel as Nicholas spurred the great horse down the dusty road.
"I am coming, Julie,” he murmured, “and you better be where I think you are."
Julie sent Gwyneth to fetch Lily. The lady-in-waiting had been shocked to find her back home and kept insisting she be told what had happened. Finally, Julie persuaded her to go along to Lily with the promise of telling her the whole story later. Right now, she needed a long talk with her friend Lily who could do some very odd things—such as speak in her ear, yet not be seen. This time, her body had been transported, not just her mind. Could that really be done? Apparently it had.
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