Kathryn Le Veque (23 page)

Startled, Roane turned to see Alisanne descending the stairs and
terror surged through him so strongly that he nearly toppled of his chair.
Nay!
His mind screamed.
Alisanne, go back! He will see you!
The
woman was out in the open where Dodge could easily recognize her.
 
It was just too terrible to believe, an
appearance that was most unwelcome.

He had to stop her, or protect her at the very least.
 
Unless he wanted to yell at her, which would
only cast the light of focus on her even more, he had to get to her somehow. Instinctively,
Roane leapt up from his chair and tried to make his way to the flight of steps
without attracting attention.
  
He moved
swiftly in the dim light but Alisanne was oblivious to what was going on; her
focus was on Joseph Ari over by the hearth and she waved at the man as she
descended the steps.

The stairs were too wide-open to be missed by anyone, including
Dodge, and Alisanne was half-way down the stairs when he realized the woman he
had been searching for was right in front of him.
 
As Roane reached the bottom of the stairs in
a futile attempt to divert Alisanne, Dodge leapt up from his chair.

“You!” he screamed. “It is
you!
”

Alisanne heard the shout, turning with shock in the direction of
the sound. True, she’d seen the group of men as she descended the stairs but
the room was so dim she hadn’t given them a second glance. Now, she was coming
to regret that decision with shocking clarity because Dodge was on his feet,
leaping over chair and kicking over tables in his haste to reach her.
 
Alisanne was frozen to the spot as the man
approached her like some hellish nightmare.
 
She could only pray that she was still asleep and that was all this was
– a nightmare.

But it was no horrible dream. It was as real as rain and twice as ominous.
Fortunately for Alisanne, Roane was much closer to her than Dodge was.
 
He mounted the steps two at a time and
grabbed her, forcing her back up the steps.

“Get into the room and bolt it,” he commanded. “Do not open it for
anyone but me or Bowen or Joseph Ari. Is that clear?”

Alisanne nodded frantically and scrambled back up the steps as
Roane shoved her, helping her move quickly.
 
But Dodge was already on the steps, charging up with his men behind him
like some great and awful human tide, and she screamed when she saw how close
he was.
 
Roane, hearing her scream,
turned to see that Dodge was nearly on top of them. Lashing out a massive boot,
he kicked Dodge squarely in the head and sent the man crashing back on his own
men.
 
All of them tumbled back down to
the bottom in a heap of armor and flesh.

Roane, seeing that Dodge was delayed, at least for a few seconds,
swung around to Alisanne.

“Go!” he roared.

Alisanne shrieked as she ran off, disappearing back down the
narrow corridor to the room she had slept in.
 
Roane heard the door slam and with that, he felt much better.
 
At least he knew she was locked in and
somewhat safe.
 
Now, he could face Dodge
without having to worry about her.

Dodge was on his feet amidst the pile of his men.
 
He recognized Roane in an instant, fury and
outrage evident on his face.
 
For several
long seconds, it was as if his mind couldn’t grasp what his eyes were telling
him.
 
He just stared at Roane as if
incapable of moving.
 
The dead had arisen
as far as he was concerned.
 
A ghost was
standing in front of him.

“You are supposed to be dead!” he finally bellowed. “Why did those
bastards let you live?”

Roane was providing a very big barrier, albeit unarmed, between
Dodge and the top of the steps.
 
He
looked dirty and disheveled, mayhap a bit thin, but he was still a very big man
nonetheless.
By far bigger than Dodge.
But the fact
remained that he was unarmed and until Bowen returned, Roane would have to hold
off Dodge with wits and body alone.
 
His
sharp mind worked quickly, trying to think of a way to stall the man until the
weapons arrived and it would be more of a fair fight.

“Surely you remember what they accused me of,” he said to Dodge,
sounding smug and calculating.
“Heresy, among other things.
 
You will of course remember that I was
accused of using witchcraft to heal a man.
 
Lightning shoots from my fingers. Or have you forgotten that?”

As he’d hoped, his statement gave Dodge pause. There was something
in his expression that suggested he was at least contemplating what Roane had
said.
 
Aye, he knew what the man had been
accused of. There was some fear and mystery to that.

“I had you for days and you never once showed any sign of
witchcraft,” he muttered. “If you are so capable, why didn’t you use it on me
and free yourself?”

Roane lifted an eyebrow. “My hands were tied,” he said, lifting a
big hand as if to show him an example. “Now they are free. If I were you, I
would be very careful about my next move.
 
I am here because the Hospitallers are dead, including Bordeleaux.
 
They tried to execute me but, well… I was not
agreeable to it.
 
They have been duly
punished.”

He was flexing his fingers ominously.
 
Dodge and his men couldn’t help but take
notice, glancing at each other nervously.
 
It was true that when they’d first captured
him, he’d been subdued and restrained, hands included. But now he was
free.
 
The apprehension surrounding them
began to grow and a couple of Dodge’s men actually backed away.

Dodge felt the apprehension but he wouldn’t surrender to it, at
least not yet.
 
He was a proud man, too
proud for his own good.
 
He pointed a
finger at Roane.

“You had the opportunity to use your witchcraft on me when first I
saw you,” he said accusingly. “On your mountaintop retreat you could have
killed me with your lightning but you didn’t. You let me go and it cost you.
Will it cost you again? Now you have my wife and I want her. She is mine.”

Roane wouldn’t back down and now that Alisanne had been brought
into the conversation, he would let them know he was quite prepared to kill
them all in order to protect her.
 
He
lifted both of his hands and the majority of Dodge’s men took a healthy step
backwards, wary of his intentions.
 
Roane
wasn’t quite sure what he was going to do if they charged him and he couldn’t
produce the lightning bolts, but for now, he had them sufficiently frightened.
That would do until his brother could return.

“Your marriage is invalid,” Roane said confidently. “You were
married by a man who was not ordained by the Catholic Church; therefore, they
do not recognize your marriage and it is invalid.
 
Kinlet Castle does not belong to you, nor
does Lady Alisanne.
 
She will soon be my
wife and the Craven barony will belong to me.
 
All of your scheming and betrayal will be for naught.”

Dodge’s face flushed with outrage. “You are mad!”

“You haven’t consummated your marriage yet, have you?” Roane
said,
a twinkle of mirth in his eye because he simply
couldn’t help humiliating the man. “She hasn’t let you touch her, meaning even
if your marriage had been conducted by an ordained priest, it still would be in
danger of annulment.
 
Face the facts, de
Vere; nothing belongs to you, especially not the lady.”

Dodge’s face turned all shades of red. “You bastard,” he snarled.
“I shall kill you for this, do you hear? Your witchcraft cannot save you now!”

As he took a step towards Roane, the back door and front door to
the establishment flew open and men with weapons began pouring in.
 
Startled by the sudden rush of armed soldiers,
Dodge and his men unsheathed their weapons and soon a full-scale battle was
occurring in the middle of the great room.
 
Chairs smashed and tables overturned. Bowen, spying his brother half way
up the flight of stairs that led to the second floor and sleeping rooms above,
made his way over to him and tried not to get struck in the process.

“Roane!” he called.
“Your weapon!”

He was extending a sword to Roane but Dodge, who was nearer to
Roane than Bowen was, saw the exchange and threw out his broadsword, clipping
Bowen on the wrist.
 
It was enough of a
strike to cause Bowen to drop the weapon and Dodge was able to punch the man in
the face for good measure.
 
Bowen dropped
to the ground.

Furious, Roane began to come down off the stairs.
 
He leapt on Dodge, throwing him to the floor
as he began to pummel him furiously.
 
Dodge screamed, trying to protect
himself
, but
it was no use; Roane’s fury was unleashed and he beat Dodge mercilessly.
 
Every strike, every infliction of pain, had a
meaning behind it; vengeance for his capture, vengeance for the marriage to
Alisanne, vengeance for the pain and suffering Dodge had caused. All of it had
a meaning, and Roane showed no mercy.
 
It
was a brutal beating.

Meanwhile, one of Dodge’s men had made it onto the flight of
stairs.
 
Roane was so busy beating Dodge
to death that he never saw the man slip up the steps and make a break for the
sleeping rooms.
  
As Roane beat Dodge
into unconsciousness, the man managed to break into two rooms, the second of
which contained Alisanne.
 
Alisanne screamed
as the man rushed into the room and grabbed her by the hand.
 
But his grip slipped and he ended up latching
on to her hair.
 
Screaming and fighting,
Alisanne was pulled from the room.

Roane heard the screams.
 
Dodge was a bloody pulp at his feet and he froze, horrified at what he
was hearing.
 
About the time he rose to
his feet, the soldier had Alisanne at the top of the stairs.
 
She was howling something fierce, trying to fight
the man but being prevented by the grip he had on her.
 

As Roane watched in horror, it appeared as if the man intended to
throw her down the stairs and panic flooded his veins; he did the only thing he
could think of.
 
Lifting his hands as if
by sheer force of will he could stop what was about to happen, he put every
ounce of fear and pain and horror into one terrific shout. Everything he was,
and everything he would ever be, was bundled up into that cry.
 
It was the force by which Nature was
moved.
 
At this instant, Roane moved all of
Nature.

“Nay!”

At the sound of his voice, something burst out from his hands,
like invisible bolts of lightning, hurling up the staircase and crashing into
the soldier that held Alisanne.
 
The
force of the strike was enough to cause the man to release his grip and he hurtled
backwards, slamming into the wall behind him so hard that part of the wall
crumbled and the soldier ended up half-in and half-out of the tavern.
 
There was a big hole now where once had been
a solid wall and the soldier who had created it was quite dead, his upper torso
and head hanging out of the building before the dust had even settled.

It all happened in a flash.
 
Smoke trailed up from the dead man, permanently smashed into the broken
wall, and the entire body of writhing, fighting men came to a startled and
fearful halt.
 
Even Roane was startled at
what he had done; he stood there, his hands still lifted, looking at the
results of what his utter and total terror had caused.
 
Alisanne had been in danger and all he could
see, think, or feel was his horror at that prospect.
 
There was nothing else in his heart at that
moment than the desire to save her.

And he had.

Alisanne, gripping the banister from where she had fallen against
it, looked at Roane with something more than complete shock; it was disbelief
in its purest form.
 
True, she had seen
what had happened, an odd force of energy flying from Roane’s hands and killing
the man who was trying to toss her down the stairs, but she still couldn’t
believe it.
 
In truth, mayhap she wasn’t
meant to believe it.
 
Mayhap she was
simply meant to accept it.
 
Just like a
full moon or the rise of the tides, there were some things that weren’t meant
to be understood but merely accepted. As she gazed at Roane, eyes wide, she
knew this was one of those things she wasn’t meant to understand.

In fact, no one understood what they had just seen, least of all Roane.
 
He tore his eyes from Alisanne, looking at
his hands, feeling that his fingertips were very, very hot.
 
Mouth hanging open, his gaze found Alisanne again
as if to say…