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He was a magnificent warrior, larger and stronger than both of them, and far more agile. Though they had been well trained, he had honed his formidable skills on countless fields of battle. His sword swept and plunged. Deftly he turned aside each vicious thrust. Then, with one mighty blow, he sent Cren’s sword clattering across the floor.
When the astrologer scrambled to retrieve it, Arianne sprang forward. This time she lifted the chamber pot and struck him over the top of the head.
He toppled to the floor, limp as an eel.
“Throw down your sword, Julian.” Nicholas’s eyes were alight with a cold fury that sent shivers up and down Arianne’s spine. “Else I will kill you now.”
“Hah!” Julian sneered and lunged forward then, with a quickness born of hate and desperation. “You may have escaped from that prison, but you will not escape from Castle Dinadan or from me. I will smear your blood across every wall in this chamber! Die, my hated brother. Die!” The sword point glided past Nicholas’s defense and slid toward his chest.
But Nicholas leaped aside just in time and followed up with a vicious thrust of his own. With grim strength he plunged the tip of his sword into Julian’s throat.
Arianne shut her eyes against the gush of blood. She heard a single strangling gurgle, then the thud as Julian’s body hit the floor.
A racking shiver went through her.
When she saw Nicholas next, he was on his knees beside the bed, clasping the old duke’s hand between both of his. His face ashen, he kissed his father’s withered fingers.
“I never thought to see you alive again,” he whispered hoarsely.
“My son. I never thought to have the chance to ask forgiveness.” Tears shone in the duke’s sunken but still lucid eyes. “I condemned you wrongly, banished you, trusted that jackal and would not listen to your pleas…”
“Father, there’s no need…” Nicholas tried to interrupt.
But the duke continued without heeding him. “Julian made it appear…that you had committed those heinous offenses against that girl. He has admitted it. Arianne is my witness.”
“It’s true,” she put in softly, kneeling beside Nicholas. “It was all his doing, just as you suspected. When your father had second thoughts, when he would have called you back, Julian had him declared dead and locked away in this chamber.” She touched Nicholas’s arm. An array of emotions must be besetting him at this moment—love, shock, disbelief, and staggering joy to find his father alive. Not to mention a stunned realization of his own vindication. He looked like a man who’d been struck on the head by an iron beam.
She yearned to embrace him, to kiss away that glazed icy shock, and hold him close against her heart, but he turned swiftly back toward Duke Armand.
“You’re ill. He has harmed you,” Nicholas said sharply, but the old duke shook his head.
“No, a sickness came over me just before he brought me to this place. A…fever. A doctor cared for me here—then Julian had him killed so he would tell no one that I still lived.” His voice broke. A great sigh ran through his thin body as he met his son’s sorrowful gaze.
“I’ll never forgive myself…for being such a fool,” Duke Armand whispered.
Before Nicholas could reply, two figures burst through the narrow opening that Arianne had entered a short time before.
Nicholas sprang to his feet, sword in hand, but it was Marcus and Katerine on the threshold.
“My captain, Felix, and the troops of Galeron are driving Julian’s men from the bailey,” Marcus panted. “Sir Castor and other nobles are fighting beside us. And soldiers bearing your hawk banner are fighting madly, cutting off those trying to flee…My lord!” he exclaimed, astonishment crossing his flushed and battered face as he saw the duke.
“What miracle is this?” Katerine cried, her hands fluttering to her throat.
“It is time…for the fighting to stop.” Duke Armand tried to sit up. Nicholas leaned down to help him. “Julian has caused enough bloodshed, enough division in my kingdom.”
“Then I’ll stop it.” Nicholas spoke with quiet purpose. His gaze softened briefly as Arianne flew toward Marcus and they embraced, their heads touching. He wanted to get down on his knees and thank God that she was safe; he wanted to hold her and inhale the sweetness of her being and thereby banish the stench of death from his soul.
But there was no time yet for gentle thoughts or loving words, or for the healing that only she could give him. The battle still raged below.
As a reminder of this, Katerine suddenly spied Julian’s body and wrenched away, gasping, from the sight.
More were dying even as he stood here, Nicholas reflected, his glance hardening once again.
His father was right. It was time for the violence and strife to end. He knew exactly what he had to do.
The scene below was a panorama of chaos. After Nicholas settled Duke Armand upon the gold-backed chair that Marcus had carried out to the balcony directly beneath the secret tower room, he paused a moment to survey the destruction and ongoing bloodshed below.
Grim-mouthed, he stepped forward and gripped the balcony wall.