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CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

M elusine wasn’t in a big hurry.

She came scurrying out of the keep, following Elle’s trail to the kitchen yard, but the entire time, she was keeping an eye out for Asa. That enthusiastic, sometimes irreverent Englishman whose entire family was Jewish. Asa was something of an anomaly, determined to fight like a warrior because that was what he’d wanted to be his entire life, yet he had the delicate skills of a jeweler that his father had taught him.

Bold yet gentle at the same time.

The man had made his own sword with the help of a smithy, and it was the most exquisite sword anyone had ever seen. Christopher had tried to buy it from him several times. Curtis had also tried to buy it, as had Myles, and Douglas actually stole it from him once. When Asa caught him, Christopher gave him permission to punish Douglas, and he had—by throwing eggs at him for a solid hour. Douglas was covered in eggshells and splattered egg, forbidden to wash it off for a day and a night.

To date, he had never stolen again.

Melusine was very fond of Asa. As she had told Elle, she knew the man wanted to marry her, but she had neglected to tell Elle that he hadn’t exactly asked. His affections were clear, but he’d never actually said the words. Still, Melusine knew what was in his heart. She knew that he very much wanted to marry her, and she wanted to marry him. She wasn’t afraid to convert to his religion, either, though he hadn’t asked her to. But she was confident that he would.

Someday.

But Asa didn’t seem to be in any hurry.

As Melusine passed through the bailey, she heard someone calling to her. Turning toward the sound of her name, she could see Christin coming up behind her.

“Good morn, my lady,” Christin greeted her pleasantly. “I wanted to tell you how much we enjoyed your food last night.”

Melusine liked Lady de Sherrington, at least what she knew of her. She’d had a chance to speak with the woman at the feast last night before the chaos erupted, and she found Lady de Sherrington to be kind and curious.

A nice lady… for an English lass.

“I am glad to know that,” Melusine said. “The cook and kitchen servants worked hard on the meal, so I will tell them that you appreciated it.”

Christin nodded. “Please do,” she said. Then she glanced around the bailey. “I was looking for Lady Leominster. Have you seen her?”

Melusine nodded. “I was just going to her,” she said, pointing in the direction of the kitchen yard. “She is off to wash clothing.”

Christin’s brow furrowed. “Washing?” she repeated. “Does she not have a maid for that?”

Melusine shook her head. “She prefers to do it herself,” she said. “She considers it a wifely duty.”

Christin grinned. “Ah,” she said. “Then I shall go with you. My brother is a very lucky man to have married such an industrious woman. Has she always been like that?”

They began walking toward the kitchen yard as Melusine nodded her head. “Always,” she said. “Ever since she was a child, she has been very busy. She is not afraid to sweep a floor or pick up a sword in equal measure. She is brave and determined.”

Christin laughed softly. “I think I have seen a bit of that,” she said. “My father told me how my brother and his wife met. Did she really throw him off the wall in battle?”

Melusine grinned in spite of herself. “That is what I have heard, too,” she said. “As Elle tells the story, she saw a very big knight come to the top of the ladder as he prepared to mount the wall. She was so angry that she charged him, and they both fell off the wall together.”

Christin had to cover her mouth to keep from laughing out loud. “God’s Bones,” she muttered. “And I thought I was bold.”

“Are you?” Melusine said, having no real idea of Christin’s background. “Your mother seems to be a direct sort of woman, too.”

Christin half nodded, half shrugged. “My parents met in much the same way that Curtis and his wife met,” she said. “I think it is in the blood with de Lohr women to be rude to the man you are going to marry when you first meet him.”

“Were you rude to your husband?”

Christin did laugh out loud then. “The great Alexander de Sherrington?” she said, feigning shock. “Surely not. I was so in awe of him I could hardly speak.”

They were walking past the western side of the great hall at that point, with the kitchen yard directly ahead. There was a wall around the yard, covered with vines, and a gate in the middle of it. Melusine led Christin toward the gate.

“Then if you could hardly speak to him, how did you convince him to marry you?” Melusine asked with genuine curiosity. “Did your father speak to him?”

Christin shook her head, frowning. “My father did not want us to marry,” she said as they reached the gate. “He thought Sherry to be too old for me.”

“Was he?”

Christin reached out and opened the gate before stepping through with Melusine. “Of course not,” she said, her attention moving to the kitchen yard and the search for Lady Leominster. “He was just the right age. In fact, he…”

Her sentence ended unnaturally fast as she spied something over near the laundry. A servant was holding someone down into the laundry basin. Someone in a linen dress who was struggling fiercely. Melusine’s gaze fell on the same scene, and she immediately screamed, which spurred Christin into action.

She took off at a dead run.

Christin had been trained for survival and protection. She wasn’t a wilting flower or a weak woman. She was a de Lohr, and they were the best of the best, the toughest women in England. A servant was clearly trying to drown a woman, and her instincts took over. As she ran for the laundry basin, she grabbed the first weapon she came across, which was a heavy piece of wood for the fire beneath the great cauldron in the kitchen yard. It was a rough piece of wood, with small branches sticking out of it like spikes, and she ran at the servant, who had yet to see her.

She used that to her advantage.

Flying up on the servant’s blind side, she swung the wood with all her might, right at his head. She ended up catching him in the neck, causing him to stagger away from the struggling body he’d been on top of. As the person came up for air with a great, ragged gasp and Christin saw that it was Lady Leominster, she charged the servant again and hit him twice more in the face and chest with the wood. It was enough to send him backward and rip the cowl from his head. As he fell to his knees, Christin got a look at his face.

Bewilderment filled her.

“Amaro!” she gasped. “It’s you !”

Amaro knew he was in a bad way, now recognized by Hereford’s eldest daughter, who had been a trained assassin long ago. This was no feeble woman who had attacked him.

He had to fight back.

The shovel he’d been carrying before he attacked Lady Leominster was a few feet away. When Christin swung the wood at him again, he batted it away and lunged for the shovel. Meanwhile, Melusine was pulling a dazed and nearly drowned Elle away from the laundry basin as Christin did battle against a significantly larger opponent. When Christin saw that Amaro was going for the shovel, she threw the wood at him as hard as she could, clipping him in the face. Unfortunately, it didn’t stop him, as he managed to grab the shovel.

Christin darted away.

“Run,” she commanded Elle and Melusine. “ Run! Find help!”

Elle wasn’t able to move very fast. She still had water in her nose and lungs, so every breath was a struggle. Melusine was trying to pull her along, but Amaro was moving to cut off their exit. As Christin picked up an iron poker used to tend the cauldron fire, Amaro pulled out a dagger from somewhere around his waist. All good knights carried an assortment of daggers, and even though Amaro was posing as a servant, he was not unarmed.

Unfortunately for them.

The fight had just become more dangerous.

The dagger in Amaro’s hand went flying at Melusine, catching her in the center of her chest before she could get out of the way. As she toppled over, he produced another dagger and hurled it at Elle. She was too weak and dazed to dodge it, and it slammed into her upper chest, near her neck.

She went down as well.

Horrified, Christin waited for a third dagger to come flying at her. She began screaming, trying to attract attention, and much to her surprise, Asa suddenly appeared in the yard entry. The truth was that her screams hadn’t attracted him. He’d seen Melusine and Christin go into the yard, and, wanting very much to see Melusine, he had followed.

But what he stumbled upon was a horrific scene.

“Asa!” Christin screamed. “Help us! He is trying to kill us!”

Asa went into battle mode. He didn’t have to see more than he’d already seen or hear more than he’d already heard. His broadsword, that magnificent piece, was pulled from its sheath, and he charged across the yard, heading for Amaro, as more men began to run toward the yard. Christin’s screams had brought them from all over the bailey.

Asa raced at Amaro, who had another dagger in his hand. Prevented from throwing it at Christin, who rushed to Elle and threw herself on top of the woman to prevent Amaro from injuring her further with another flying blade, he turned the dagger on Asa and threw it. Because Asa was a moving target, it caught him in the thigh, but it didn’t slow the man down. He came down on top of Amaro with that beautiful sword and nearly cut the man’s left arm off.

Suddenly, the yard was filling with men, including Hugo, who had command of the gatehouse because the other knights all seemed to be sleeping. In fact, he’d had command of Brython since last night, since the beginning of that eventful feast. As he came into the yard and saw the carnage, he saw Asa standing over Amaro, who was trying desperately to escape the man. As Hugo watched, Asa brought the sword down and planted it squarely in Amaro’s chest. The man collapsed, never to move again.

Having no idea what was happening, Hugo caught sight of Christin as she pushed herself off a wet and bloodied Lady Leominster. A few feet away lay Melusine, flat on her back, and as Asa ran to Melusine, Hugo ran to Christin.

“My God,” he said, absolutely horrified at what he was seeing. “Lady de Sherrington, what happened?”

Christin was close to panicking. “We came into the yard and Amaro was trying to drown Elle,” she said, her voice lifting in terror. “Hurry! Rouse Curtis! Rouse my father! We must get the ladies into the keep!”

Hugo turned to the soldiers who had crowded in behind him and gave them the commands to rouse the knights. As the soldiers fled and the alarm was raised all over the castle, Hugo dropped to his knees beside Elle, who was only semiconscious. A quick assessment of the dagger had him shaking his head at Christin.

“We need to get her into bed, where this can be removed,” he said. “If we remove it now, we risk having her bleed to death in front of us. I will take her!”

He scooped Elle into his arms with Christin’s help, and as he turned for the keep with an escort of frantic soldiers, Christin went to Asa as he held Melusine in his arms. The man was sobbing, rocking Melusine’s limp form back and forth.

“Asa, put her down,” Christin said urgently. “Let me see her. Asa, put her down !”

But Asa wouldn’t do it. He continued to hold her, tears and mucus running down his face. “He killed her,” he wept. “He killed her!”

Appalled, Christin had to forcibly pry Melusine away from him. She had a dagger sticking out of the center of her chest, right between her breasts. There was an enormous red bloom that radiated out from the dagger’s entry point, and Christin put her fingers to Melusine’s neck to feel for a pulse.

There was none.

Christin opened an eyelid to see that Melusine’s eyes were fixed. There was no movement. She felt for another pulse at her wrist and put her hand on the woman’s chest for any hint of breathing, but there was nothing.

Everything was still.

The realization that Melusine was dead swept Christin, and tears of shock came. She slapped a hand over her mouth, looking at Asa as the man wept with grief. Bold, brilliant, aggressive Asa, whom she’d known since he had been a boy, was suffering through something unspeakable. She put her hand on the man’s head to comfort him, weeping with him, as Alexander burst though the yard gate. Half dressed, as he’d just been yanked from his bed by anxious soldiers, he began bellowing for his wife.

“Christin!” he shouted. “ Christin! ”

“I am here,” Christin said, standing up so that he could see her. “Here, Sherry. I am here.”

Catching sight of her, Alexander rushed in her direction, throwing his arms around her when they finally came together. For a brief moment, Christin gave in to his strength and warmth, because his arrival signified that she was safe. After the terror of the past few minutes, she was finally, and truly, safe. Alexander was here and nothing could hurt her, not ever.

“What in the hell happened?” Alexander said, finally releasing her long enough to clutch her head between his two big hands and look her in the eye. “What is going on?”

Now that the fight for her life was over, Christin was trying desperately not to weep. “It was Amaro,” she said. “When Melusine and I came into the yard, he was trying to drown Elle in the laundry basin. I stopped him from killing her, but he began producing daggers and throwing them. He struck Melusine and Elle, but Asa came before he could throw one at me. Asa killed him.”

Alexander still wasn’t over his terror. His heart was beating so fast he thought it might beat right out of his chest. “Amaro?” he said incredulously. “De Laraga?”

“Aye.”

“But he was at Lioncross,” Alexander said, baffled. “At least, he was supposed to be.”

Christin shook her head. “He was here,” she said, gesturing to Amaro’s body several feet away. “I do not know how he got here, but he was here and he was trying to kill Elle. Sherry, he killed Melusine. She’s dead.”

As she said that, Asa suddenly stood up. He was gasping like a madman, weeping and hysterical, and he staggered over to Amaro, pulled his sword out of the man’s chest, and began stabbing him again and again. As those in the kitchen yard watched, Asa cut Amaro’s body to pieces in his grief.

It was a heartbreaking sight.

“God,” Alexander muttered, watching a man’s agony play out. “My God, the poor man.”

Christin was watching as well, softly weeping. “What do we do?”

Alexander shook his head and turned away. “Leave him,” he said. “If there is any justice in this world, he is dispensing it. Let him do what he needs to do.”

Christin simply nodded, wiping at her eyes as she turned to look at Melusine. Other than the massive red stain on her chest and the dagger sticking out, she looked as if she were sleeping. It was tragic in so many ways. Silently, Christin knelt down beside the woman, gazing at her still face for a moment before smoothing back her hair and kissing her on the forehead.

“I am sorry, my love,” she whispered. “So very sorry. But you needn’t worry—we will take good care of Asa for you. And Elle. You may rest well, darling, I promise.”

With that, she took hold of the dagger and yanked it free of Melusine’s chest, handing it to Alexander when he knelt down beside her.

“She seemed like a sweet lass,” Christin whispered tightly. “I did not know her well, but I know that she spent the last few moments of her life trying to help someone who was in danger. That is a brave ending, Sherry. It is a warrior’s ending.”

Alexander nodded sadly. “It is, my love,” he agreed softly. “Very brave, indeed.”

“Make sure Asa knows that. I am not sure I can tell him.”

“I will.”

Christin’s gaze lingered sadly on Melusine for a moment longer before she turned away. “I must go to Elle now,” she said bravely, trying desperately to focus on the living and not the dead. “Curtis may need my help. Will you stay with Melusine and see she is taken care of? She must be well tended, Sherry. Please see to that. Be gentle with her.”

He nodded, kissing her temple and helping her to stand. As Christin headed from the kitchen yard, Alexander sent men to collect something soft to wrap Melusine in as Asa continued to carve up Amaro. If anyone understood that kind of raw and horrible grief, it was Alexander. He’d seen much of it in his lifetime. But when Asa had exhausted himself and Amaro was in several different pieces, he returned to Melusine, took her in his arms, and stayed there for the rest of the day.

For moral support, and to show respect to a woman who had died trying to save Lady Leominster, so did Alexander.