“Odelyn!” Justin knelt beside the girl, carefully setting his arms beneath her.
“Oh, Sir Justin,” she managed, drawing breath in short gasps and grimacing when he lifted her in his arms. “I let her go. I was taking her a tray of food…she had a knife. Now she’s gone…my fault. I’m sorry.” A sob, pain mixed with grief…racked her slender body. “So sorry, my lord.”
“Don’t think of it, little one,” Justin murmured, setting her gently upon the bed. “Lie still and be quiet. I’m going to fetch help.”
His shouts woke the entire household, and brought everyone running. Christian jarrived first, with Hugo fast on his heels.
“God’s mercy!” Christian moved to the bed, horror in his voice. “Odelyn.”
Tears coursed over the girl’s cheeks, and she gazed at her former master with despair. “Am I to die, Sir Christian?”
“God, no!” Christian knelt beside her, taking her bloodied hand in his tight clasp. “Oh, no, Odelyn. Dearest Odelyn.”
“Let me tend her,” Hugo said gently, nudging past Christian, trying to make him let go. “Send Gytha and Meg to me,” he told Justin, who stood in the doorway. “I will do all that I can,” he promised, then added, more severely, “You must find Lady Evelyn and bring her back to answer for this evil crime.”
Christian stood, bending to kiss Odelyn’s forehead with tender care before straightening and following after Justin, who had gone to shout for Meg and Gytha. At the head of the stairs, Christian grabbed his arm, roughly turning Justin about.
“You let that she-wolf into your home, and now see what she has done,” he said tightly, his face drawn into a mask of rage and fury. “The right to deal with Lady Evelyn is now minel I demand that it be so.”
Justin nodded. “It will be so. Let us find her quickly.”
Kayne pushed through the manor’s front doors, breathing hard, and met them at the bottom of the stairs.
“The guard in the stable was found with his own knife in his throat,” the boy told them in a tumultuous rush. “She killed him, and tried to ride over the guards at the gates before they got out of her way.”
“The bitch has gone mad,” Christian muttered, traversing the great room with rapid strides that continued as he crossed the bailey. “How long ago did she ride out, Kayne?”
“Only ten minutes, at most. Heading north. How is Odelyn?” He voiced the question timidly. “Will she live?”
Justin set a hand on the boy’s shoulder as they entered the stables, squeezing it briefly before moving to saddle Synn. “We must pray that she will. It is all we can do for her now.”
“Save to avenge her,” Christian said tightly. “And I swear by God that I shall, or find my own death in the attempt.”
It was a sight such as Senet had never seen in his life, and had never expected to see. They had been riding hard, relentlessly, day and night, resting only when the horses couldn’t go on and pushing ahead as soon as they could, with reaching Talwar again as their only goal. Since dawn was first signaled in the sky, they’d begun to feel something other than weariness and hunger; a simple joy, knowing that they were only a few miles away from their destination, that they would soon be able to dismount their exhausted steeds and tell their tale, fill their bellies and quench their thirsts and sleep for a few precious hours on the comfort of a bed. Aric had actually smiled twice in the past hour, and John had begun to chatter in the nervous, restless manner that defined him. Less than a half hour of riding remained, and then they would be home.
But the early calm of the beautiful spring day was shattered by the shocking spectacle of Lady Evelyn, mounted on horseback, flying toward them with the compelling madness of a demon being driven out of Hell.
“God’s feet!” Aric shouted, sharply jerking his horse aside just in time to avoid being run down by Lady Evelyn’s hard-driven steed. His mount whinnied in distress, and danced precariously at the edge of the road.
Senet and John were likewise required to settle their mounts, but had barely had time to do so when three more riders came thundering headlong toward them.
“What’s amiss!” John demanded furiously, impelling his unhappy steed into the trees again to keep from being trampled. “They’re crazed!”
“Sir Justin!” Senet shouted above the roar of hooves. “Kayne!”
“Sir Christian!” Aric added as that man went flying past, bent low over his horse’s neck and intent on his prey, not so much as glancing at the three boys calling to him. Only Kayne took a moment to address them, as he raced past, shouting what sounded, to Senet, like Odelyn’s name.
“Now what?” Aric asked as they encouraged their nervous horses back into the road.
Senet nodded toward where the other riders had gone, saying, “Let’s go.”
With a nod of agreement, the other two turned and followed, riding back in the direction from which they had just come, pushing their horses as hard as they dared to catch up in the chase.
She hadn’t gone far, they discovered when they finally followed the trail to where the others had dismounted at the edge of the woods. Lady Evelyn had evidently decided that she couldn’t outrun her pursuers, and had abandoned her steed in favor of traversing the thickly wooded forest on foot. Senet and the others dismounted, following the sounds of voices as they drifted back from the edge of a sheer drop that overlooked the valley, and at last came out into a clearing where the trees gave way to a rugged stone shelf. Lady Evelyn stood at the edge of it, facing Sir Christian with a bloodied knife in one hand, her chest rising and falling with harsh breaths, her unbound hair and cloak billowing around her in the wind that flew upward from the valley, buffeting the rocks with whistling gusts.
“Accept the truth, woman,” Sir Christian advised against the harshness of his own breathing. “You cannot escape down the mountainside, and there is nowhere else for you to go. Put down your weapon and submit, and I will yet take you before the regents and give you the chance of an honorable death.”
“Honorable?” she repeated, laughing scornfully. “My name will be disdained throughout England if all that I have done becomes known. Better to die now and shield the sanctity of my title than to become the object of public disgrace.”
She was mad, Senet thought. Fully crazed. He could see it in her eyes, in the wildness of her stance.
“At least do what you can to right some of your wrongs,” Sir Christian advised, “and go to God with one less stain on your soul. Tell us where Lady Isabelle is, and what has become of her.”
Smiling, she shook her head. “Oh, no, my lord. That I will not do. Isabelle will never be found, and she will suffer all that she has deserved. By the time my father and his men have finished with her, there will be nothing left to take back. What do you say to that, my fine lord, Sir Justin?” she asked, sneering. “Will you want your precious lady back after she’s been made to play whore to a hundred men?”
“Evelyn…” Justin said, taking a step forward and stopping when she took a like step back, closer to the edge.
“Fool!” she snarled at him, precariously balancing to keep her foothold. “You might have had me for your wife! The most beautiful woman in England! A jewel to possess, to display for all you knew to see and admire. Anyone seeing me at your side would have praised your great fortune and considered you a man among men. Oh, aye, I would have allowed you that great honor, yet you threw it aside as if it held no worth, and took that ugly mouse in my place. Isabelle Gaillard!” She spoke the name with dark hatred. “I’m glad she’s going to be ruined for you, just as she ruined everything for me.”
“It matters not,” Justin said. “A hundred men, or a thousand, or whatever base evil your father may visit upon my innocent wife. I am the only man who will possess Isabelle’s heart. She can never be ruined for me. Tell me where she is, Evelyn.”
“Nay. I will take the knowledge with me, and make my death the sweeter by it.”
“It is not necessary that she speak,” Senet said, hearin
g the thinness of his voice with some surprise, for he did not sound like himself. “We know where Sir Myles has taken my sister. John can easily guide us back to the place.”
The smile on Evelyn’s face faded away, and a tremor ran over her slight body. She looked, suddenly, like a young girl about to burst into tears of childish upset.
“It is so unfair,” she murmured, lowering the hand that held the knife. “I should have had every good thing, but you have all worked to bring me down to this. I’m glad I took my vengeance while I yet lived. The child, and Odelyn…” Opening her bloody fingers, she let the knife fall to the ground, then lowered her head, shaking it sadly. “I only wish that I had killed Isabelle when I had the chance. She does not deserve to live and be happy, when everything has been taken from me. It is so unfair,” she repeated softly, then closed her eyes and lifted her arms, leaning backward into nothing.
Senet stared at the place where she had been, sick to his very soul at what he had witnessed, but driven by sudden, sharp fear to push the horror away.
“Odelyn,” he murmured, his gaze falling to the bloody knife. “What did she mean?”
It was Sir Justin who turned to him when the others seemed made of stone. The grim, set lines of his face made Senet’s heart turn over in his chest.
“She was yet alive when we left Talwar to follow after Lady Evelyn, but I do not know if—”
Senet turned and fled, racing toward the road and the horses. Sir Justin ran close behind him, shouting, but Senet could not stop, or think of anything beyond reaching Odelyn. She was alive, he told himself, ignoring the pain in his chest as his lungs demanded breath, pushing himself on through the trees as if Satan himself pursued him. Odelyn was alive. She would not die. It was impossible.
He lunged for his horse the moment he cleared the trees, but a strong hand jerked him back.
“Take Synn!” Sir Justin shouted, shoving him toward the large black destrier and nearly throwing him into the saddle. “Go!”
The horse responded to the hard slap of his master’s hand on his flank with a forceful leap. Senet barely held fast to the saddle as the huge beast hurtled forward in a full-out stride, heading for Talwar.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Leaving Christian and the others to collect Evelyn’s body, Justin rode for Talwar, arriving only moments after Senet. Climbing the stairs of the manor house, he found Hugo standing in his bedchamber doorway, gazing solemnly into the dimly lit room beyond.
“Hugo?”
His elder brother lifted his head, looking older than his years, weary and infinitely sad. He shook his head in response to the unasked question, and Justin let out a slow breath.
“God’s mercy,” he murmured.
“She is not gone to our Lord yet,” Hugo told him, his voice low, as Justin moved to stand beside him. “I have just now performed her last rites. She is at peace.”
Justin looked beyond him into the chamber, where Senet knelt upon the bed beside Odelyn, bent over the hand he held in both of his. Tears dripped down the boy’s face; his agony seared Justin all the way through to his soul. But Odelyn, as Hugo had said, was calm and peaceful, gazing up at Senet with a gentle, shining love. The bleeding had been stopped, and she had been washed and clothed in new garments and covered warmly with blankets. Her curling hair was brushed back from her face, and if it had not been for the paleness of her cheeks and the blueness of her lips, she might have merely been a young woman taking her rest.
“You must not grieve, Senet,” she said in a voice soft and whispery. “I do not want you to grieve.”
Senet was weeping inconsolably, gripping her hand more tightly and pressing her fingers with desperate movement against his lips, as if he might somehow suffuse life into her there and keep her from death.
“Who will ever love me?” he asked, pleading with her. “Who will ever look at me as you do? I need you so. Don’t leave me here alone.”
Her eyelids fluttered and drooped, as if she were very weary, but she smiled at him, and said, “Nay, you’ll not be alone. You have suffered so much of it before now. God will be merciful to you. There will be a beautiful lady to love you, better than I could have done. And you will come to cherish her as dearly as your own life. More so.”
“Nay.” He shook his head. “Nay.”
“You mustn’t push her aside when she comes to you, Senet. You must love her and let her love you, no matter how difficult it may seem. Promise me that you will do so.”
“I cannot.”
“I want you to be happy. It is all that I ask. Promise me, Senet. ‘Twill give me peace.”
He drew in a long breath, calming, wiping at his tears with his sleeve, never letting go of her hand. At last, with a nod, he said, “I promise, Odelyn.”
“I’m glad.” She made a sound, half a yawn, half a sigh. “You have made me so happy, Senet. I loved you the moment I saw you, just as she is going to love you. The very moment she sets sight on you.”
“Odelyn,” he whispered.
“I’m so weary,” she said. “Will you stay with me while I sleep?”
“Aye.” He began to blink against the new tears welling in his eyes. “I’ll stay here beside you. Can you not feel my hand in yours? Sleep, and know that I love you. Always.”
She smiled at him again, her eyes drifting shut. Senet bowed his head low and was silent. Hugo put his hand on Justin’s shoulder, murmuring, “Let us leave them alone together. He will bear her company as she passes, and it is what Odelyn would wish.”
Nodding, Justin allowed his brother to pull him away.
She was buried two days later, on the hill beside Isabelle and Justin’s unborn child. Hugo presided over the solemn ceremony, and Senet was the one who threw the first fistful of dirt into the grave. When it was done, Justin tried to put his hand upon the younger man’s shoulder in a gesture of comfort, but Senet shrugged away from his touch, turning to him.
“I want only to find Isabelle now,” he stated fiercely, and then walked away. It was the most Justin had heard Senet say since he came out of the bedchamber where Odelyn died. He had been fully changed, silent, as he used to be when he first came to Talwar, but without a trace of youthfulness left in his features. It was almost as if he had left the other boys behind, leaping across the years and away from them, to become a man. Despite that fact, however, the bond between himself and the others had only become more firmly forged, and in their loyalty they had closed ranks around Senet, sheltering him constantly. Even now they followed behind him as he descended the hill, matching his long strides, as well as his silence. Justin watched them go, one by one, torn between pride in their honorable behavior toward their comrade and pain at the anger they directed toward him.
“Give them time,” Christian said beside him. “For all they have suffered in their young lives, it is yet a hard lesson to know how evil man—and woman—can become.”
Justin shook his head. “I am the one who has disappointed them,” he said. “I do not know if they will ever forgive me—” he lifted his head “—or even if you will.”
Christian frowned. “We have been friends for many years, Justin Baldwin. There should be no need for us to speak such things to each other. You did not know what Lady Evelyn was, or how maddened. I do not blame you for Odelyn’s death.”
“Do you not?” Justin countered. “You and Senet both could rightly do so. I should have accepted the truth of what everyone around me knew of Lady Evelyn. She poisoned Isabelle, killing my child, nearly killing Isabelle, and all the while I defended her.” With a hard fist, he thumped his chest. “God have mercy, I defended her.”
“You could not have known,” Christian repeated more firmly.
“I was a fool! She said it rightly to me before she threw herself off the cliff.”
“Listen to me,” Christian said gruffly. “You offered kindness to that evil she-wolf, because you are a good, kind man. You gave to Lady Evelyn what you have given to all whom you meet, to your wife, to
your lads, to me. Trust and kindness you give in full measure, and pray God that more of His people would do the same!”
“That is well and good,” Justin replied angrily, “but I doubt that Isabelle or my lads will ever see fit to absolve me for such a reason.”
“If you truly believe that, then you hand them an insult they do not deserve. I do not say that they will not suffer anger for a time, and pain, aye, but none of them is so blind as to blame you for what Lady Evelyn and her father have done. Don’t heap coals on their misery by wallowing in self-despair and forcing them to prove their devotion to you now. Keep your mind on finding your wife. Lady Isabelle must be living in horror, if Sir Myles is anything like his daughter.”
“I have thought of nothing else,” Justin murmured.
“My lord!”
Both men turned toward the soldier who hailed them.
“An army approaches, from the east!” the man cried, rapidly climbing up the hill to them. “You can see them from the other side.”
Justin and Christian scrambled past the grave sites, running to where Hugo already stood, looking down on the road that approached Talwar.
“It’s Hugh,” the priest said. “My twin has wasted no time in answering your summons, Justin. Look at the size of his forces!”
“A frightening thing, it is, to give such a man charge of so much might,” Justin murmured, his chest rising and falling with painful emotion. If Hugh had ever wished to prove that he cared for his youngest brother, he had just done it. “But I praise God he has come. We will leave in the morn, at first light, and send a messenger to Alexander, telling him where to meet us as we journey north. Sir Myles will not be expecting such an invasion, but that is well. He has brought evil down upon my home and family. It is my right to exact vengeance, and I swear by God that I shall.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
It had been two days since she ate. Two days, and she was so hungry that even dreaming of food made her want to weep.
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