Rise of the Defender (144 page)

     Her struggles lessened, she moved to look
Dennis in the eye. His plain face met her beautiful one, his eyes glazed with
lust.

     “I….I choose pleasure, my lord,” she
choked, her heart pounding in her ears.

     He flickered a small smile. “Wise,
chèrie
.
I am quite good, I am told.”

     Dustin forced a smile, she was shaking so
bad that she could feel her lips shaking. “We shall see. Might I rise and
prepare myself?”

     He eyed her. “Not so easy as that,
mon
petite
.”

     Dustin cleared her throat and drew in a
breath to relax, to prove to him that she was sincere. If she was going to
retrieve the fire poker again, then he had to let her up. And once she had the
poker, she fully intended to gore him. It was either that or he would surely
kill her.

     “It is, I swear it,” she said softly,
trying to appear submissive. “I am tired of fighting. My body aches for a real
man's touch. Mayhap that is you?”

     “Mayhap,” he replied, eyeing her now that
she was suddenly cooperative. “You will certainly find out.”

     Dustin gulped, trying desperately to convey
compliance. Surely he could feel her shaking. “I have not had but two lovers,
my lord. You will be gentle with me, will you not? My husbands were often
rough. It frightened me.”

     She was lying through her teeth, anything
to appear vulnerable. Dennis lapped it up, knowing she was lying but feeling
comfortable enough with her submissiveness. As long as she wasn't biting and
kicking, he could handle her resistance. He felt himself growing warm, looking
forward to their coupling. He had been planning this since he had seen her the
day before, and to hell with the prince. He was confident he could explain his
impetuousness.

     He grinned. “Very well, then. Rise and
prepare yourself,” he said, releasing her. “But no tricks, mind you. I shall
thrash you soundly, prince or no prince.”

     Dustin nodded solemnly, straightening her
surcoat as she rose. With a shielded gaze, her eyes rapidly searched the floor
for the fire poker. As she rounded the side of the bed, she was flooded with
relief to see it lying close to her wardrobe, which just so happened to be her
destination. Taking a deep breath to bolster her courage and ease her quaking
knees, she blessed Dennis with a sweet smile and moved toward the wardrobe.

     “Something pink,
chèrie
,” Dennis
said, stretching his legs out on the bed. “I like to see my women in pink.”

     Dustin did not answer; she was close to the
poker and trying to maintain her posture so he wouldn't see what she was moving
for it until it was too late. Her feet moved rapidly across the scrubbed floor,
every step bringing her closer to Dennis' death. Her palms began to sweat; she
had to be swift and sure. There would be no room for mistakes.

     With quaking hands, she was upon the poker
and she dropped to her knees, snatching it confidently within a firm grip.
Dennis, moved from the warm anticipation of sex to a stab of anger at the sight
of his prey preparing to defend herself again, shot off the bed with the
agility of an attacking tiger.

     “
Non!
” he bellowed. “You scheming
little whore. I shall take that iron to your backside.”

     Dustin heard him coming, hearing his angry
footfalls hit the floor and rush toward her. Panic surged through her and she
stumbled as she attempted to rise, ending up on her behind. In the great rush
to protect herself, she swung the poker around just as Dennis descended on her
like an avenging angel. The combination of her rapid movement and his swift
action drove the head of the poker right through his sternum, burying it deep
within the muscle of his beating heart. He was dead before he hit the floor.

     Dustin sat on the floor, gasping with shock
and terror. Sir Dennis was slumped over her feet, bleeding all over her legs
and surcoat and she was so petrified with horror that she could do naught but
sit and stare at him. It took her several long moments to realize that he was
no longer a threat and only then did she try to calm herself.

     She yanked her feet out from under him,
panting with the effort and the disgust she felt. Her legs were shaking so that
she could not stand, so she simply scooted a few feet away and leaned against
the wardrobe, making desperate attempts to slow her breathing and regain her
senses. Now that the initial danger was over, she had to clear her mind and
decide what move to make next. After all, she had just managed to kill Prince
John's champion, self-defense or no, and she was positive the prince would not
take kindly to her offense.

     Just as she was getting a grip on herself,
the door to her bedchamber flew open and Gabrielle stood in the archway. Her
pleasant expression instantly went to one of absolute horror when she saw Sir
Dennis' crumpled body lying in a pool of blood.

     “Dustin.” she cried. “What….?”

     “Shut the damn door.” Dustin croaked.

     Gabrielle, stunned, immediately slammed the
door shut and bolted it for good measure, turning back around to face the gory
scene with disbelief.

     “What happened here?” she demanded shakily.
“Is he...is he…?”

     “He is dead,” Dustin said, more calmly than
she felt. “He tried to rape me, and I killed him, although it was truly an
accident,” her eyes sought out her friend in earnest. “I could not let him have
me, Gabrielle. He might have hurt my child somehow, and….,” she trailed off,
swallowing the bile rising in her throat.

     Gabrielle, her hand clutching her throat,
walked hesitantly toward the body, viewing it was astonishment. He was in a
heap on his side and the fire poker jutting from his chest was stark evidence
of what had happened.

     “You killed him with the poker?” she
pointed. “My God, Dustin, what bravery! I simply cannot believe it.”

     Dustin was feeling distinctly limp now that
she was calming. She gazed impassively at the bloodied body, wondering what in
the hell she was going to do now.

      “He charged at me just as I picked it up,”
she said quietly. “He impaled himself on it.”

     Gabrielle was overwhelmed. How many times
had she imagined herself doing the same thing but had lacked the simple nerve?
She hovered over Dennis' body, her legs like water, delight and terror hand in
hand.

     “What are we going to do with him?” she
whispered.

     Dustin felt the impact of the word 'we'.
Gabrielle would not allow Dustin to be alone in this, and she was deeply
grateful. But what remained now was, indeed, what to do with the body. With a
deep breath for courage, she rose to unsteady feet.

     “We have got to hide it somehow, get rid of
it,” she said. “But where?”

     Gabrielle shook her head. “I do not know,
Dustin. We cannot very well carry him anywhere and....” She suddenly looked up
at Dustin. “I am scared. If John finds out what you have done, he will…..”

     Dustin wouldn't let her finish. “I know,”
she cut her off, though not unkindly. “We must hide him somewhere where he
won't be found, at least for a while.”

     “At least until he starts to smell,”
Gabrielle added, almost dryly.

     Dustin looked from the body to her friend
and back again. Then, her gray eyes scanned the room in thought, desperately
trying to think of a way out of this situation. What to do, what to...?

     Her eyes fell on the massive wardrobe,
filled with her new, hated clothing. A light went on in Dustin's mind; surely
she could hide the man underneath the mound of clothing and he would be out of
view from anyone who opened the wardrobe, at least until they went digging.
Rapidly, she bent down and pushed Dennis over on his back.

     “In the wardrobe, Gabrielle,” she said with
quiet urgency, yanking the poker free with disgust. “We shall put him in there
and cover him with my surcoats.”

     Gabrielle sucked in her breath sharply and
glanced at the open wardrobe. It was certainly large enough. Lacking a better
suggestion, she grabbed hold of Dennis' legs. With Dustin dragging him by the
arms, it took them several tries to get the dead man up into the wardrobe.
Blood was everywhere as they lay several surcoats atop him as well as any other
accessories they could find, covering him completely. They worked quickly and
quietly, a tremendous sense of urgency filling them.

     Only when Dennis was covered and the
wardrobe doors closed did Gabrielle rush to clean up the trail of blood on the
floor. Dustin, spent emotionally and physically, flopped into a chair as her
friend did a fine job of covering the evidence.

     “Where is Christin?” Dustin managed to ask,
afraid, yet knowing if there had been trouble, Gabrielle would have told her first
thing. “Did you give her to Darren?”

     Gabrielle threw the last of the bloody rags
into the hearth and covered them with ash and soot. “I did,” she looked up at
Dustin with a small smile. “She is safe, my lady. Have no fear.”

     Relieved beyond words, Dustin simply nodded
and rested her head on her hand. Her daughter was safe and Christopher was
coming for her; she should have been thrilled, but she was so spent that she
could not manage it. There was naught to do now but wait for her husband and
pray the corpse in the closet wasn't discovered before he arrived.

     “What if John asks for Dennis?” Gabrielle
asked, washing her hands in the basin.

     Dustin shrugged wearily. “We have not seen
him.”

     Gabrielle nodded silently, her stomach
twisting in knots. She was so terrified she could hardly think, but she would
have to trust God that everything would work out as it should. Wooden with
shock, she sat next to her friend and the two of them passed the afternoon in
stunned silence.

***

     Ralph was in fits. He had run from the
bailey, through the length of the castle and up a flight of stairs before he
allowed himself to slow down and catch his breath. Without a knock, he plunged
into John's chambers.

     “There is an army approaching.” he
announced severely.

     John nearly fell off his chair in haste to
rise. “An
army?
Richard?”

     Ralph nearly choked over his words. “They
are flying your brother's banner, as well as de Lohr's and Burton's.”

     John's eyes bulged to the point where Ralph
thought they might pop from his skull. “All three?” he gasped. “How on God's
earth is it possible that the three of them are here? Why, Dustin has only been
here a mere three days and it 'twould be impossible for my message to have been
received in London, and then the armies mobilized.” He was starting to shake,
an early sign of the fits he was famous for. “And it would have been impossible
to rouse de Lohr and Burton so quickly. Ralph, I do not understand any of
this.”

     “Nor do I, sire, but the fact remains that
they are here,” Ralph said grimly. “I have sent men in search of le Londe and
have already set to mobilizing our troops.”

     John, twitching, nodded unsteadily. He had
not expected them nearly so soon and was totally unprepared. He thought he had
ample time - time to use Lady Dustin, time to control her, time, time, time....

     “How far out is the army?” he asked.

     “Mayhap four hours, according to our
patrol,” Ralph replied, smelling the battle that was to come. “They are moving
quickly.”

     John's lip jerked unconsciously; he moved
to the window as if he could see the approaching army for himself. His frazzled
mind was working furiously, formulating a rapid plan of action.

     “I am leaving this place, Ralph,” he said.
“I will take Dustin with me.”

     Ralph shook his head. “I must disagree with
you, sire. She would serve us better here. If you take her, there is a chance
that she could be wrested from you in the open. 'Twould be best to keep her at
Nottingham.”

     John quivered a moment before whirling on
Ralph. “Then I take the child.”

     Ralph shrugged. “To what avail? I would
wager to say that as valuable as the child is to de Lohr, his wife is more
valuable.” He was, for once, calmer than his liege. “I would suggest keeping
them both here. De Lohr will think twice before destroying Nottingham if we use
his family correctly.”

     John's eyes narrowed. “Correctly? What do
you mean?”

     A smile tugged at Ralph's thin lips.
“Simply tell the man you will kill both the child and his wife if he launches
an attack. Put Lady Dustin up on the ramparts with a crossbow to her back so he
can see for himself that we mean what we say. I would wager to say that he will
reconsider any hostility on that basis.”

     “But what of Richard?” John wanted to know.
“He wants his property back regardless of what we do with Lady de Lohr. So we
kill her? So what? He will surely attack us then.”

     Ralph shook his head. “You will have to
trust that de Lohr, and Burton for that matter, will convince Richard
otherwise,” he said. “How fortunate for us that Richard's two strongest knights
love the same woman.”