A Knight of Honor (53 page)

A gust of wind hurtled a burning, broken piece of wood at them.
 
Slane yanked hard on the reins and the horse swerved.
 
The enflamed wood just barely missed them, landing in a nearby pile of straw, igniting it immediately.
 
Above the screams and calls for water, the fire crackled and raged.
 
Suddenly, a man burst out of the blacksmith’s shop, his clothes aflame, his tortured cries of pain filling the courtyard.
 
He dropped quickly to the ground, rolling in the dirt, but the fire had already consumed too much of him.
 
Taylor watched with wide, terrified eyes as he screamed one final time and then lay unmoving in the dirt.

The castle might have escaped the ravages of the plague, but she knew it would not escape this epidemic of murderous fire and flame.
 
Like dancing children, the flames raced across the roofs.

Taylor looked back to see a group of five soldiers chasing them, their swords drawn.
 
Suddenly, she felt Slane tense.
 
She turned her gaze forward to see two more soldiers waiting for them at the entrance to the upper ward, their swords drawn.
 
Slane and she were trapped!

Slane kicked the horse hard and it lurched forward, charging through the inner ward, bursting into the upper ward.
 
The two soldiers waiting there slashed at the horse as it emerged.
 
The horse went down, toppling to the ground, but Slane grabbed Taylor around the stomach from behind and dove, rolling away from the horse as it plummeted to the ground head first.

Bruised and battered, Taylor managed to look up to see the two soldiers rushing toward them.
 
Slane was already on to his feet, greeting them both with the edge of his sword.
 
He held the two men at bay, expertly blocking their attacks and counterattacking with deft strikes of his own.

Taylor climbed to her feet, looking around for some sort of weapon to help Slane.
 
Instead, she saw the flames leap the wall that separated the wards and catch on the thatched roof of the meat stores building.
 
It was as if it were following her, searching for her.
 
She watched the bright fire for a moment, transfixed as it ignited the dry roof quickly, sending sparks and angry flames shooting high into the early morning sky.
 
Within moments, the fire was a raging inferno, spreading quickly to the building beside it.
 
Moving toward them.
 
Moving toward her.

“Slane!” Taylor screamed, raising her voice to be heard above the sudden din of the monstrous blaze.
 
Her eyes burned from the bright flames and smoke, and she suddenly had difficulty seeing.
 
She blinked her eyes quickly, trying to force them clear of the blinding smoke as a sudden panic flared through her.
 
The fire blinded her!
 
“Slane!” she cried out again.

She felt a hand grab hers and pull her, forcing her to quicken her pace.
 
She rubbed at her eyes; her eyelids burning from the stinging smoke.
 
Finally, tears wiped across her eyes, clearing her vision.
 
She looked up to see Slane kick a soldier away from them.
 
He pulled her on, and they raced toward a door leading to the upper ward walls.
 
The heat intensified as they entered, and Slane slammed the door closed behind them, giving them a moment’s respite from the torrid air outside.
 
He paused, glancing around the small, dark room; then he grabbed a large barrel and pushed it in front of the door.
 
He whirled, grabbing her hand again, and raced up the stairs.
 
Taylor had to take the stairs two at a time to keep up with him.

When they emerged on the walkway, smoke instantly assailed them, reaching for their mouths, their noses.
 
Taylor covered her mouth with her hand and stumbled back away from the deadly clouds, but Slane pulled her on through the fog of smoke that billowed up over the walkway, guiding her toward one of the two towers that bordered the rear of the castle.

They ran inside the tower and Slane shut the door.
 
Taylor leaned against the wall, breathing hard, looking around the small room.
 
She looked down to see the smoke slink under the door, oozing across the floor like some shapeless mass.
 
She knew behind the smoke, behind this mindless scout, its master, the flames, followed.
 
She looked away from the approaching cloud to see stairs leading up to the lookout.
 
There was another door kitty-corner from the first one, leading to the walkways that rimmed the castle walls.
 
Taylor moved for the door, but Slane grabbed her hand.

She turned to him and froze.
 
She felt as if she were truly seeing him for the first time since he had rescued her from the burning.
 
His noble face -- his wonderful, exquisite face -- was smeared with soot and sweat.
 
He stood tall and proud beside her, a strong warrior.

He had come back for her.
 
The thought surfaced, but she did not want to dwell on it, fearing that if she did he might vanish and she might awaken to the smell of burning flesh and find herself still strapped to the pole, still a meal for the hungry flames.
 
Please don’t let this be a dream, she thought.

“Are you all right?” he asked softly.

She noticed the concern in his glimmering blue eyes and grinned.
 
“This is a fine rescue, Slane Donovan,” she said lightly.

He shrugged his shoulders.
 
“It isn’t what I had planned.”

Taylor lifted a hand and placed it on his cheek.
 
The warm flesh of his face sent a welcome rush of heat throughout her body.
 
He was real.
 
He was no ghost.
 
He was no specter born of a fevered dream.
 
“Thanks for coming.”

Slane covered her hand with his own.
 
“I wouldn’t have missed it.”

Impulsively, Taylor threw her arms around Slane, pulling him tightly to her, crushing him to her heart.
 
“Slane, oh, Slane,” she whispered into his shoulder, the dark horrors of her escaped fate still haunting her thoughts.

Slane gently disengaged from her embrace.
 
He brushed a lock of wild hair away from her eyes.
 
“We have to get out of here,” he reminded her.
 
He pressed a kiss to her palm and then moved toward the door.
 
He flung it open and stepped onto the walkway.

Taylor followed him and together they raced across the walkway.
 
Slane paused to glance over the wall.
 
Far, far below, the still waters of Lake Donovan looked black in the early morning light.
 
Above them, dark clouds blanketed the sky, holding the dawn captive.
 
Slane glanced at the door leading to the other tower just before them and took a step toward it.

Suddenly, the door burst open.

Slane halted and readied his weapon.
 
Taylor wished she had a sword.
 
She wished she could fight at his side.
 
She strained, standing on her toes to see over Slane’s shoulder.
 
Then a figure materialized, a mere black shadow in the swirling smoke; then a dark shape seemed to form out of the darkness, giving the shadow substance.

Taylor gasped as Richard stepped from the south tower, emerging into the pale light.

“Back so soon, brother?” Richard said.

Taylor placed her hand on Slane’s shoulder and felt his muscles harden into stone.
 
She tried to pull him back the way they had come, but he didn’t budge.

Disdain filled Richard’s curled lips, his narrowed eyes.
 
“After everything I’ve done for you.
 
I’ve tried to help you.
 
I even convinced Father to give you Elizabeth.”

“I won’t watch you burn her,” Slane said simply.

“You don’t care if you ruin me then?”

“If it’s her gold you want, take it and be done with it.”

“It’s gone far beyond that, dear brother.”
 
Richard approached, and for the first time, Taylor saw the glint of the sword in his hand.

“I won’t fight you,” Slane said.

“You’ve disgraced me.
 
You’ve humiliated me.
 
You’ve betrayed me.
 
You stole my betrothed.
 
You even slept with her!”

“I didn’t intend to do it.”

Taylor’s heart dropped.
 
She had known all along that Slane had believed their lovemaking to be a mistake, but to hear him say so hurt.
 
Hurt very much.
 
She dropped her hand from his shoulder.

“For a man who considers himself a knight of honor, I find your actions most dishonorable, don’t you?”

“No,” Slane said, looking away.
 
“I never meant to betray you.”

“‘Oops, sorry.
 
I just slept with my brother’s future wife,’” Richard snarled.
 
“Is that how it was?
 
Then what do you call it?
 
What could you possibly have been thinking?”

Slane shook his head.
 
Taylor stepped away from him and he swung his gaze to her.
 
Conviction straightened his back, as if simply looking at her were enough.
 
He turned back to his brother.
 
“She was not meant for you.
 
I knew that she could never be happy as your wife.
 
I knew that ultimately she would refuse you.”

“She had no say in the matter.”

“She did.
 
Because she is Taylor Sullivan.
 
Because she’s the bravest, noblest woman I have ever met.
 
She would have fought you every chance she got.”

“Oh, so now it was all to protect me?
 
Make any excuse you like, dear brother.
 
It doesn’t change the fact that you are a liar and a cad.”

Slane stood protectively before Taylor.

Taylor watched Slane’s jaw clench with resolve.
 
She saw his eyes narrow with determination.
 
But she knew deep in his heart the anguish and the heartache were tearing him apart.
 
She bowed her head.
 
She knew in that moment that she would do anything for him.
 
Anything to erase his pain.
 
Anything to restore his honor.
 
“No,” she said.
 
“I seduced him.
 
It’s my fault.”
 
She lifted her gaze to meet Richard’s.

“No,” Slane said softly.
 
“No more lies.”
 
He gently cupped her chin and turned her face to his.
 
“I love you.
 
Very much.”
 
He looked back at his brother, dropping his hand.
 
“And if she’ll have me, I intend to marry her.”

Joy exploded inside Taylor, filling her with a warmth she had never known existed.
 
She was blissfully happy and more alive than she had ever been in her entire life.

Richard visibly shook with his fury.
 
“Not while I’m living,” he shouted and rushed forward, his sword raised high.

Just then, a wall of fire suddenly erupted over the walkway behind them, exploding upward from the flaming roofs below, its scorching fingers reaching hungrily for Taylor, its crackling flames ecstatic at finally having found her!