Rise of the Defender (28 page)

     “What?” Christopher demanded, incredulous. “What
kind of nonsense is that?”

     “I think I can explain,” Dustin said
timidly, rounding the corner of the bed. “Rebecca’s father is Welsh, and still
clings to the old religions of his forefathers. They believe that if a person
is killed violently, then the angered soul will possess the body and wreak
havoc on the living. He is very superstitious.”

     Christopher ran his fingers through his
hair. “Very well, then. If that is what the man believes,” he said. “David, go
back to the man and tell him Lady Dustin will be there shortly.”

     David nodded, passing a final glance at
Dustin. “I really am sorry, my lady. You must think me quite lacking in
manners.”

     He seemed so remorseful that Dustin smiled
and started to reply, but Christopher spoke before she could.

     “Aye, she does, so get out of here,” he
said, all but throwing his brother from the room. When David was gone, he
turned to his wife. “I am sorry, too. I was quite enjoying our time alone.”

     Dustin blushed. “I have a feeling that it will
not be the last opportunity, my lord,” she moved past him like a giant wrapped
bundle, keeping her gaze averted. He smiled at her, pleased that she had all
but given him permission to touch her anytime he so desired. And he was coming
to quite desire her.

***

     Christopher never left Dustin’s side.

     From the moment he escorted her to the
peasant cemetery next to the small church and throughout the ceremony read in
the harsh Welsh tongue, he stayed close by her, his eyes constantly scanning
the area for anything hostile.

     Dustin was greatly comforted by his
presence. She was so distraught at the death of her best friend that she had wept
non-stop since they had left the keep. As she stood with Christopher underneath
the trees, listening to the Welsh priest speak, she felt his arm around her arm
but didn’t give it much thought until he removed it and she turned to look at
him. Suddenly, she missed it terribly and he read her thoughts, replacing his
arm and drawing her even closer to him.

     Christopher’s knights stood to the rear,
their attention also drawn to the surroundings. With the murders yesterday,
they were wary standing in foliage that would serve as perfect cover for an
ambush.

     Rebecca’s father was absolutely stricken
with grief. He had been out in the fields all day, returning to find soldiers
in his house and his wife and daughter’s remains spread all over the interior.
He simply could not comprehend the loss and even now lay prostrate on the two
fresh graves.

     Dustin cried softly for the man's pain and
for her own personal loss. She still could not believe her friend had befallen
such a horrible fate and her agony was deep, deeper still for all of the losses
she had suffered over the past week.

     She wondered vaguely if she would ever be
the same.

***

     The same two men that had killed Rebecca
and her mother now hid among the trees, watching the mass take place for their
victims beneath cloudy skies over the wind-swept cemetery.

     “Look at ‘im, standin’ there with his
grievin’ wife as if he were an innocent,” said the dark-haired, dirty man. “He
as much as killed her, having her whore for ‘im. ‘Twas his own fault we had to
kill ‘er.”

     The fat man nodded grimly. “An she was
loyal to until the end. Never did tell us anything much.

     The oily man scanned their surroundings. “Virgil,
do you think we could take the baron out?” There’s lots of trees for cover, you
know. One good arrow and we could remove him forever.”

     Virgil shook his head. “Sir Ralph said to
just spy on him, not kill him.”

     “But think on it,” the other insisted. “We’d
be doing John a favor. If we take out de Lohr now, he won’t have to worry about
him anymore. We’ll be heroes.” the other said enthusiastically.

     Virgil looked doubtful, but he knew his friend
to be smarter. “I do not know, Roy,” he said. “What if we make John angry?”

     “How can we make him angry for doing him a
favor?” Roy demanded, then turned and crawled back through the underbrush to the
belongings they had brought. “See here. A crossbow. I am a good aim with it.”

     Virgil scratched his head. “You shall take
out the baron?”

     “With the first arrow,” Roy bragged,
motioning to his neck. “The mail is weakest there.”

     Virgil thought and thought. Mayhap Roy was
right. He imagined the wealth and titles that would be bestowed on him for
helping rid John of an archenemy. The more he thought, the better he felt about
it.

     “All right,” he said. “But from a distance.
And we run like hell after the baron is down, for I do not want to go up against
any of those knights of his.”

     Roy nodded firmly. “The horses are tied up
in the glen. A perfect getaway. Then we can return to London and tell Sir Ralph
what we have done.”

     Virgil nodded, scratching his verminous
head while Roy loaded the crossbow and took an extra arrow. Then, together,
they snuck into the trees for a prime vantage point, confident in their loyalty
to their prince.

     They would be heroes.

***

     The ceremony was over. Rebecca's father
still lay in the dirt, weeping like a child. Dustin, sniffing and sobbing,
watched as the priest tried to give the man a few words of comfort but was unsuccessful
in convincing him to rise. Christopher’s arm tightened around her as they stood
there silently.

     After several long minutes, Dustin could
stand it no longer. She lowered the handkerchief she was holding, unaware when
it fell to the ground.

     “I must comfort him,” she whispered to her
husband, moving away from him and to the crumpled figure in the dark dirt.

     Christopher and the knights stood silently
as Dustin knelt beside the man. They could hear her soft voice, soothing and
even, as she spoke to him, trying to persuade him to rise. And they could also
hear the man refusing, lamenting loudly to whatever gods would listen as to why
his wife and daughter had been taken from him. The more the farmer cried, the
calmer Dustin became, until eventually she was able to convince him to get up
and return with her.

     Christopher watched his wife’s gentleness,
amazed that such a firebrand of a woman was capable of it. As she helped the
stricken man to his feet, Christopher bent over to pick up the kerchief that
she dropped.

     As he straightened up, he heard a faint high-pitched
whistle and knew exactly what it was before he even saw it. He had no time to
react at all before the whine grew deafening and behind him, David let out a
loud grunt and slammed to the ground in a crash of metal and bone.

     The knights were in action before David had
even hit the ground. The farmer be damned, Christopher pulled his wife to him
and shielded her with his big body, moving her out of the trees and towards his
destrier. Leeton and Edward had David each by an arm, dragging him free of the
wooded area and back to the horses in the open field. The de Velt twins and
Jeffrey were already mounted with swords in hand, spurring their destriers in
the direction the arrow had come from.

     The peasants that had attended the funeral
were screaming and running for their lives. David, hit in the shoulder, was
still able to control his own destrier as Leeton helped him mount. Christopher,
having no idea who their attackers were, was desperate to get Dustin back to
the keep. He thrust her at Leeton.

     “Get her and David back to the keep and
stay there.” he ordered. “Edward, to me!”
     Before Dustin realized what was happening, she was mounted in front of Leeton
and, along with David, racing back to Lioncross.

     The last glimpse she caught of her husband
was of him astride his massive white destrier, huge sword in his equally huge
hand, tearing off in the direction of the trees.

     They reached Lioncross in short measure,
helping David into the keep with a nasty-looking spine protruding from his
shoulder. David’s wound was not deep. The arrow had hit him in a weak spot in
the armor, doing no more than embedding itself a couple of inches into the
man’s soft flesh. Leeton had removed it easily while Dustin had cleaned and
patched it up.

     Stripped to the waist, David was propped up
with pillows as Dustin lay in a few stitches, cringing every time she stuck him
with the needle. He did no more than smile at her and she was at a loss.

     “Does this not hurt you?” she demanded.

     “A tickle,” he told her, studying her features
and close range. She had been quite elusive as of late and he was not surprised
to discover she was even lovelier up close.

     She cocked an eyebrow, securing a stitch. “Somehow
I doubt that,” she said.

     He turned a little, pointing to a large
scar just below his rib cage. “Now,
that
one hurt. The scar is much
smaller than the actual wound.”

     “What happened?” she glanced at it, a scar
on an otherwise perfectly formed torso. Christopher had a slight matting of blond
hair on his chest, but David’s was as smooth as a baby’s bottom and very
beautiful. His arms were like thick oak branches.

     “A Saracen,” he said. “He caught me
off-guard, without my armor. But it was a good fight.”

     “How did he catch you without your armor?”
she wanted to know.

     David cleared his throat. “I was well….I
didn’t have any clothes on at all. I was… you see….there was this….”

     “You were bathing,” Dustin put in quickly,
not wanting to know the rest. She had an idea of what he was about to say.

     “Aye, I was bathing,” he agreed rapidly,
relieved. “What a bath.”

     She shot him a reproachful glance,
returning to the next stitch. He smiled broadly, remaining silent as she finished
mending the wound.

     “Christopher will be pleased to see that
you were not badly injured,” she finally stood up, glancing at Leeton as he
stood beside the bed. “Where do you think they could be? They have been gone a
long time.”

     “They will be back,” Leeton said. He had
sent one hundred men-at-arms to assist the knights when they had first returned
to the keep and was confident that any trouble had been swiftly quelled.

     Dustin sat with David while Leeton went
down to the bailey to check on the progress of the action. David insisted he
was fine and able to resume a normal schedule, but Dustin had fits and demanded
he stay abed. David complied reluctantly, knowing that Christopher would order
him up as soon as he returned. Until that time, he was perfectly content to sit
and gaze at his lovely new sister-in-law.

     “I still find it hard to believe your father
did not marry you off before he left with Richard,” he said softly.

     She glanced up at him as she cleaned up the
items used to tend his wound. “Why do you say that?”

     “Because you are so lovely,” he replied. “Surely
there were men beating down the door to marry you.”

     Dustin dropped her head again. “Idiots, all
of them.”

     David grinned. “Including my brother?”

     Dustin sighed irritably. “He did not beat my
door down,” she said. “My father simply handed everything over to him,
including me.”

     “And that displeases you?” he pressed,
although gentler.

     She slowed as she gathered the last of the
cat cut and needles. “Why do you want to know this? It is of no concern to you.”

     “My brother is my concern,” he replied. “But
if you do not want to talk about it, I understand.”

     “Thank you,” she said, turning for the big
wardrobe in the chamber to put everything away.

     He eyed her. “Christopher didn’t want to
marry anyone, either. But he has reconsidered.”

     She busied herself at the wardrobe. “Is
that so? Well, I care not. We are married whether either one of us wants to be
or not.”

     He scrutinized her as she tried to ignore
him. “Do you not like Chris?”

     She looked at him.  “He is my husband.”

     “That isn’t an answer. Why do not you like
him?” David persisted.

     She cocked her head, not as irritated as
she had been earlier. “You are the prying sort, aren’t you? And I never said I
didn’t like him. I do.”

     He grinned. “Good. He likes you.”

     She shrugged, pretending indifference when
she was secretly gladdened with his words. Not knowing what to say, she finished
putting everything away and then went about straightening up the chamber just
so she wouldn’t have to sit and answer David’s questions.  He was nosy and,
being unsure of her feelings and certainly not wanting to share them, she
pretended to be busy.