Champion of the Heart

by Laurel O'Donnell

  “Enough! I am here, you black dog! Have you come to surrender?”

  Fox spun his horse around to see Evan staring down at him from the battlements. But what caught Fox’s eye was Jordan at his side. Mixed feelings warred within him. Was she there as a prisoner or by choice? At least Vaughn had not harmed her.

  “You hide behind Jordan like a coward!” Fox called. “Come and face me.”

  “You must be mad!” Evan called from the walkways of the castle.

  Jordan jerked forward, but was pulled back.

  “I have come to claim what is rightfully mine.”

  “I will never give up your lands!” Vaughn hollered down.

  “I have come for my betrothed. Give Jordan to me and I will leave you in peace.”

  There was a long moment of silence. Fox locked eyes with Jordan. She turned to Evan and must have said something harsh because Evan shoved her roughly away from him. Fox gritted his teeth.

  “She isn’t yours! She will never be yours! Surrender to me now or I will have my archers shoot you down,” Evan commanded.

  “Come and face me, Vaughn. Come fight me,” Fox called. “I have already beaten you once. And I would thoroughly enjoy doing so again. They still say you are the best fighter in these lands. I say they are wrong, and I stand here before you to prove it.”

  “Why would I accept your challenge?” Evan demanded.

  “Because if you don’t, your villagers and guards will know what a coward you truly are.” Fox reined in his horse and circled again, staring at the walkways, wondering if at this very moment they were preparing an archer to shoot him down.

  Jordan reappeared at Evan’s side and he again shoved her abruptly away after a brief exchange with her. “I accept your challenge!” Evan hollered. “To the death! I will meet you at midday in Vaughn field!”

  ***

  Fox ran the stone across his sword, sharpening the blade. He had been impulsive. One might even call him foolish. But Fox refused to think of that. He had no armor, only a sword and a steed. Still, he felt undaunted. Righteous. He had to win the battle for Jordan.

  He sat at the far end of Vaughn field, waiting. He arrived hours early, honing his skills, practicing, preparing his weapons. But his mind could not erase the concern and worry he had seen on Jordan’s face.

  Always worry for others. Never a concern over her own fate.

  He lifted his head toward the road. He hoped his friends were all right, although he knew they were. They always were. They were probably on their way back to Castle Mercer -- Pick and Beau arguing, no doubt.

  Fox grinned and ran the stone across the blade again.

  Mary Kate. Where had Vaughn taken the children? Did Jordan know? He hoped so. He hoped she was there to watch over them. Because after the battle they would either be free... or Fox wouldn’t be around to worry about them.

  ***

  Jordan watched Fox across the field, preparing his weapons. He inspected the length of his sword and then sheathed it. Anxiety filled her. She had goaded Evan enough on the battlements to get him to accept Fox’s challenge. She had been trying to buy some time, hoping Fox would flee. But now, as the battle was about to begin, she wondered if she had done the right thing.

  Fox lifted his head and their eyes met for a moment. Anguish filled Jordan. Why was he doing this? He had said he came to claim his betrothed. Her. Had he really meant those words? Or was this just his way of getting back at Evan? Was he using her to take revenge?

  Her gaze swung angrily to Evan, who stood nearby watching Fox. He turned his gaze to her. His mouth grimaced and he strolled to a soldier who stood a mere two feet from her. “I will take no chances,” Evan told him. “If I can’t have her, then no one will.” He glanced at Fox, then back at the soldier. “If he wins, kill her.”

  Complete and utter dread washed over Jordan.

  The soldier swung his gaze to Jordan, then back to Evan. “Yes, my lord.”

  Evan locked gazes with Jordan. His eyes looked cold and dark and sinister. In that instant, she realized everything she heard about him was true. Everything Michael had tried to warn her about was true. He was heartless and selfish. He would do everything he could to win. And if he couldn’t, he would make sure Fox didn’t, either.

  Jordan looked desperately at Fox. He was already mounting his steed, preparing for the battle. She couldn’t even warn him.

  Evan swung himself up onto his horse, then turned to face Fox. Fox was already fully mounted, facing him. Each man grabbed a lance.

  The field became very quiet, very still. The sun continued to slowly inch its way into the sky, heralding the middle of the day. Jordan wasn’t certain if the day would be a new beginning for her, or the beginning of the end. She stood nervously on the platform bordering the center of the field, praying for a new beginning.

  Then Fox spurred his horse forward. Evan immediately did the same. The two horses galloped toward each other, their hooves pounding the ground. Mud splattered up behind them. Fox leveled his lance at Evan, gripping the long pole steadily. Evan mirrored his move, lowering his pole.

  Suddenly, Fox’s steed slipped on the slick earth and Fox yanked on the reins, steering his steed away from Vaughn. Jordan gasped as Evan’s lance struck a glancing blow to Fox’s arm.

  Jordan watched in horror as Fox teetered in the saddle, favoring his arm, grimacing in pain. She gripped the wooden railings on the platform tightly, dreading the worst. But then he quickly righted himself, staying tall in the saddle. Jordan forced her fingers to relax as Fox rode his horse past where she stood, moving quickly for another lance. As he passed her, Jordan saw blood on Fox’s left arm, the dark red liquid dripping to the muddy ground below him. It was his old wound, the one she had inflicted with her own dagger. Evan’s blow had reopened it. She instinctively jerked toward Fox, but the soldier beside her put a restraining hand on her arm. Jordan glared hotly at the soldier and jerked her arm free.

  She turned back to face the field. The two men were already turning for another round. Both of them reined in their horses, pausing for a moment.

  Fox drew his sword.

  Evan flipped up his visor, and a grin stretched across his lips before he slammed his faceplate back into place.

  They began again, charging across the field toward each other. Evan hunched low in his saddle, readying himself for the finishing blow.

  Fox leaned forward, but not to the degree Evan did. He held the lance in one hand, his sword at the ready beside him.

  The horses drew closer, their speed increasing.

  Jordan’s heart pounded.

  Suddenly, just before the lances struck, Fox whirled his sword, smashing it against Evan’s lance. The lance spun away, jarring Evan. At the same time, Fox leaned forward and his lance struck Evan’s shield, hard, knocking him backward. Evan tried to hold on to the reins, but the combined impacts were brutal, pushing him back and up off of his horse.

  Evan landed in the mud of the field with a dull thud.

  Joy filled Jordan and she turned her gaze to Fox. Fox staggered in his saddle, slowing his animal to a stop. He swung one leg from his horse to clumsily dismount. His sword dragged in the mud as he approached Evan. He held his other arm tightly to his side. His face was twisted in pain. Jordan wanted to run to him, to help him, but she knew she could not interfere.

  Evan pushed himself to his feet, drawing his sword as Fox approached. “Surrender to me now, Mercer, and I will make your death quick,” Evan called.

  Fox answered with a silent, swift attack, his strength seemingly renewed. He swung his sword with two hands, driving the blade at Evan’s head. Evan blocked the blow and countered with a thrust.

  Fox sidestepped the strike, whirling to attack again and again.

  Evan blocked the strikes and then they separated, pushing off each other’s blades. “You’ll never win,” Evan taunted. Blood continued to trickle from Fox’s wound. Evan eyed it with a grimly vicious smile. “You’re hurt too badly.”
r />   “You talk too much,” Fox said and feinted right then left, and lunged.

  Evan barely had time to block the surprisingly quick move, almost losing his sword when he did block it. He grimaced, trying to push Fox’s blade away.

  Even wounded, Fox was stronger. The blade drew closer and closer to Evan’s breastplate. Suddenly, Evan stepped away from Fox and Fox’s sword bounced off Evan’s armor. He pursued Fox relentlessly, attacking with a volley of arcs and side swings.

  They were both highly skilled warriors, and in any other battle Fox would have defeated Evan, but he was wounded and now they were evenly matched.

  Jordan felt her heart stopping each time Evan swung at Fox, each time his blade whistled through the air.

  Fox backed away from Evan. He looked defeated. His shoulders sagged. His sword drooped.

  Jordan felt agony spear through her. She started to step forward to call a halt to the battle.

  But then Evan suddenly charged, raging like a wild bull. “You are mine!” Evan snorted as he rushed forward, his sword held high over his head for the finishing blow.

  Suddenly, Fox came to life, swinging his sword to knock Evan’s attack aside. He continued forward, stepping into Evan’s charge, slamming his shoulder into Evan’s stomach. Evan buckled under the blow, and Fox added a solid blow to Evan’s helmet that sent Evan toppling like a tree.

  ***

  Fox stepped forward, placing a foot on Evan’s sword arm and pressed his blade into Evan’s throat, the hard metal just touching his soft neck. “Once again, the day is mine. And this time I will collect what is mine.”

  “We’ll see about that,” Evan spat. “You may have won this battle, but I will win the war.”

  Fox glared at Evan. He did not like the threat behind his words. There was something else happening he was not aware of. “Yield,” he commanded through clenched teeth. “I prefer that you don’t, but I will give you this one last chance to keep your head attached to your neck.”

  Evan raised his hands. “I yield,” he grumbled.

  Fox rose slowly and stood towering over Evan for a long moment. Finally, he sheathed his sword.

  “Fox!” Jordan’s cry rang out through the clearing.

  Fox whirled and saw Jordan running toward him, a soldier directly behind her, his sword raised above his head to cut her down. “Jordan!”

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Jordan raced forward. She felt like she was running through water, her legs refusing to move any faster. She could hear the guard’s heavy boots crunching the ground behind her, could hear his ragged breath as he charged after her.

  She looked up to see Fox running toward her, crushing the blades of grass at the edge of the jousting field beneath his booted feet. It seemed as if he, too, was running in a macabre slowed-down motion. His blue eyes grew wider in terror as he neared her; his teeth gritted in agony. She could see him mouth her name, but for some reason she could not hear the word.

  Behind her, she thought she felt the hot breath of the soldier splatter across the back of her neck.

  Instinctively, Jordan stepped to her right, trying to avoid the sharp blade she knew was coming at her. But her movement wasn’t enough to save her from harm. She felt a strange biting sting in her right arm.

  Suddenly, Fox was before her, grabbing her arm and pulling her behind him to safety just as he met the next swing of the soldier. Fox easily intercepted one and then another of the soldier’s arcs, countering with a hard thrust and then another, driving the soldier back from Jordan.

  Jordan took a few steps back, moving away from the fight.

  Fox swung again and again, then deflected a thrust. He swung his arm around hard, knocking the soldier’s blade aside. Then he swung the hilt of his sword upward, striking the solder solidly on his exposed chin. The man staggered back a step and Fox moved in, delivering another solid strike with the handle of his weapon, crunching the leather-wrapped metal into the guard’s chin, then into his cheek. The force of the final hit spun the soldier completely around, and he collapsed unconscious to the grass.

  Jordan raced to Fox, throwing her arms around him. She trembled with relief as she clung tightly to him. “Fox, Fox,” she gasped. “Take me with you. Don’t leave me here. Please, take me with you.”

  Fox put one arm around Jordan, his other arm clutched tightly to his side. “You are coming with me.” His hand squeezed her arm and a bright flare of pain erupted. She groaned and pulled back to look down at her arm.

  “You’re hurt,” Fox whispered as he looked at her arm.

  Jordan glanced down at her arm to see a cut and a thin red line trickling from it. The soldier’s sword had just barely nicked her. She pulled Fox against her, never wanting to let go never wanting to relinquish him again. She pressed her face against his shoulder and noticed Fox had his own trail of blood to deal with. “So are you,” she whispered back.

  “It’s the old wound,” he said. And then he smiled a most wondrous smile at her. “I guess we will have to tend to each other.”

  Jordan smiled back. “Yes. For a long, long time.”

  They stared at each other for a long, lingering moment. Fox moved his face closer to hers, and she parted her lips in anticipation of his kiss.

  Suddenly, a hulking shadow fell over them, blocking the sun. Fox quickly moved in front of Jordan, his body shielding her against any would-be attacker. He looked up to see his old friend.

  Evan sat atop his horse, glaring down at them. Fox held his sword ready, lifting it slightly, the sharp tip pointing directly at Evan.

  “You may have won your love,” Evan snarled at Jordan, “but who will save your children?” With those dark words, he abruptly whirled around and spurred his horse brutally hard, driving the animal toward the gates of Castle Vaughn.

  Jordan instinctively reached for the dagger at her thigh; her sheath was empty. She couldn’t even remember when she had seen the dagger last. Fear and desperation seized her as she watched Evan ride off toward Castle Vaughn.

  Desperate, despondent, Jordan began to race after Evan, running as fast as her legs would carry her. Fear tightened its hold around her heart.

  Suddenly, Fox was beside her on his horse, his hand outstretched to her. “Here, Jordan,” Fox called.

  She grabbed his hand and he pulled her up before him, seating her in front of him. He spurred the horse forward. Evan was so far in front of them. The horse had to go faster, but the poor animal was already panting hard, worn out from the joust.

  Jordan’s hands clutched the pommel as Fox maneuvered the horse over a fallen tree. She lost her balance and teetered for a second, but Fox held her firmly against him. “Hold on,” he urged.

  His tone somehow calmed her, taking some of her fear away. Evan was too far ahead for them to catch up to him. He was going to reach the castle first. Faster, her mind urged. Faster. But they had two people on their horse where he had only one. They would never stop him in time. A sob welled up in her throat and tears blurred her eyes. What horrible things would he do to the children just to get back at her? She couldn’t even bear to imagine, but Evan was capable of just about anything. “Fox,” Jordan pleaded, her voice fading in the wind rushing by them.

  “Here.”

  Jordan looked down. Fox held a dagger in his hand, holding it before her. She took it from him as the horse lurched forward.

  “You have to do it,” Fox said.

  Jordan looked up at Evan. She could see his back just ahead of her. “I can’t. He’s too far. We’re moving too fast.”

  “You have to! It’s our only hope. If he reaches Castle Vaughn before us, the children don’t have a chance!”

  “He’s wearing chain mail. It will do no good.”

  The horse leaped over a scattered pile of rocks.

  “I’ll get in as close as I can. You have to aim for his head or his neck.”

  Horror speared through Jordan as Fox urged his horse faster with a slight kick. How could she throw a dagger at E
van’s neck? It would kill him. How could she kill him?

  How can I not? she wondered. He’ll kill the children if I don’t stop him. Or worse. Jordan glanced down at the dagger in her hand. Her fist was trembling. What if she missed?

  Jordan lifted her gaze to see Evan moving fast down the dirt road toward Castle Vaughn. She had to stop him. It was all up to her. Resolve filled her. She clutched the dagger tightly.

  Evan would not beat them back to Castle Vaughn.

  “He’s getting too close to the gates!” Fox declared.

  Jordan watched Evan ride. She had certainly hit a target as far as that before, but she had been standing still, not riding a moving animal, and the target had been still. “Fox,” Jordan whispered in doubt.

  “You have to do it,” Fox said.

  Jordan saw Evan’s bare neck moving up and down as he galloped hard on his horse. She knew she couldn’t hit it. It was too small a target, moving too fast and too far away.

  “You’re the only chance the children have,” he said.

  Jordan’s gaze dropped to the dagger.

  “Do it now!” Fox ordered.

  Evan erupted through the thin trees, racing hard for the drawbridge. They followed, moving quickly behind him.

  Castle Vaughn rose before them, its tall towers reaching skyward. Where the castle had once appeared warm and beautiful and inviting to Jordan, it now looked as grim and ugly as she knew Evan’s soul to be. In her mind, the crumbling ruins of Castle Mercer held more grandeur and majesty than the starkly foreboding, perfectly maintained fortress of Castle Vaughn.

  Evan reached the drawbridge and started across.

  “Do it now, Jordan!”

  She brought her arm back and flung the dagger with all her strength, praying for her throw to be true to its mark.