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“There’s been a change in plans,” Nicholas snarled, gesturing impatiently at the dungeon master, who had frozen at the other guard’s words. “Now hurry, or the archduke will have our heads. The prisoners—quickly, fool, or by all that is holy…”
At that moment one of Sir Castor’s knights, unnerved by the complication, made a move toward his sword.
“‘Tis a trick!” the second guard shouted suddenly, drawing his own sword.
But he never had a chance to use it, for Marcus’s arm shot through the bars and grabbed him by the throat, and the next instant the Count of Galeron had plunged Arianne’s jeweled dagger into the guard’s neck.
Fighting erupted in a furious tempest as Nicholas and the knights whipped out their swords and a dozen of Julian’s men-at-arms, hearing the cries from the dungeon guards, came swarming down the stairs.
“Kill them! They’re imposters! ‘Tis a trick, a trick!”
The dungeon master slashed his sword at Nicholas, who leaped aside only just in time. He sliced his own blade forward, then leveled it sideways in a wicked thrust that tore through the dungeon master’s chest. Blood poured, the man sank to his knees with a death groan, and then Nicholas had the keys from him.
He tossed them through the bars to Marcus as he advanced upon the next shouting, slashing onslaught of Julian’s men.
Marcus fitted the key in the lock and swung the door wide. An instant later he was out, grabbing up the sword of the guard he’d stabbed and hefting it even as the gypsy shouted out in glee from her cell.
At that moment the soldier blocking Nicholas’s path drove his great shining sword past Nicholas’s guard and thrust straight for his heart.
“What have you done with my medallion?”
Glaring, Julian bore down upon his wife with deadly rage and grabbed her by the throat. Cren the Astrologer paused three paces from them and folded his arms, watching the duchess’s terrified eyes with satisfaction.
“Tell me, you conniving whore, or I’ll throttle you here and now!”
“Nothing, my lord. I…never…saw…”
“Only you and Cren have access to my chambers and know where it is kept. I need the medallion for the execution today—do you think to save your scum lover Marcus by hiding from me the royal medallion of Dinadan?”
“Stop…stop…I beg of you…”
Arianne, who had just a moment before entered the adjoining anteroom, heard the duchess’s strangled cries and darted forward. Without hesitation, she threw herself at Julian, wrenching his arm to free Katerine from his death grip.
Cren half turned, gesturing to the guards at the outer door.
“Subdue this woman.”
“No!” Arianne cried desperately as she was dragged back. “My lord, let her go…I beg you, don’t harm her!”
At that moment there was a thunderous pounding in the corridors of the castle. She heard shouting, boots stomping, and from a distance came the clash of swords.
“To arms! To arms! The castle is besieged!”
The shout reached their ears, and Julian froze even as Cren gave a hoarse cry of fear.
“You did not foretell this!” Julian cried, releasing Katerine’s throat with a growl as he spun furiously toward the astrologer.
“My lord, the stars do not lie. But they did not show me…”
“Do you know what this means? What I must do now? Quick, the tower!”
Then Julian was gone, the guards whipping aside to let him pass. “Go! Fight! Drive them back!” he screamed as he ran up the corridor, the astrologer striding after him, pale as frost.
Arianne helped the bruised and weeping Katerine to a bench as the other ladies emerged fearfully from the anteroom. “Tend to her,” she ordered, then raced out into the hall.
Which way? Which way had he gone?
It was then that she saw the sweep of a starred black-and-white robe just disappearing around a corner. Cren!