Page 20 of The Sword and the Damsel (The De Veres #2)
W hen Victor turned into the hallway with his bedroom, he sensed immediately that something was wrong. The bedroom door was wide open. It seemed unlikely Alais would have gone anywhere on her own. He turned into the room, and she was gone. There was a broken piece of crockery on the floor beside the bed and several drops of blood on the pillow. There was also a note on a thin strip of parchment resting on the pillow.
“ I took her. R”
His blood ran cold. The food and wine crashed to the floor, and he grabbed his sword and a heavy cloak. He ran down the hall, down the stairs, and stopped momentarily in the great hall to tell his father. “Robert kidnapped Alais. I must find her. I’m going after them. Search the house to see if anyone saw them.”
“What?” His father started to rise from his chair, but Victor didn’t pause to talk to him or say anything else. There was no time to waste. Instead, he ran out of the castle to the stables and saddled Socorro before the groom even realized he was there, and he went riding out into the night.
It was too dark to gallop, but he trusted his horse to see where he couldn’t and he did it anyway, knowing the road so well he could walk it blindfolded. He was headed for Hastings. It was possible Robert would have taken another route, but Hastings was his most likely destination. And anyway, there was no way he could track him in the countryside in the dark.
Victor guessed Robert would be headed home. He wouldn’t want to stop at an inn with a kidnapped noblewoman in tow, and camping out with Alais wasn’t a practical choice either. The mill would be Victor’s second stop if he didn’t find Robert at home.
The sound of his horse’s hooves thundered in his ears in the otherwise silent night. A fog descended, hiding the moon and stars, and giving the air a close and stifling feel, forcing him to slow down when he was desperate to race ahead. When he’d been traveling for half an hour, a group of three unsavory-looking men blocked his way forward, and another three closed in behind. Those were the ones he could see. He suspected more were hidden in the trees on either side of the road. Oh, for God’s sake . The last thing he needed right now was a delay fighting with brigands.
“Well met, good sir,” said the largest of the bunch in a low voice oozing with threat.
“I’m in a hurry. Delay me at your peril,” Victor replied with a cold certainty that made several of the men shift uneasily.
“Now, now. It isn’t polite to hurry. We’re only getting acquainted, and there are so many of us you haven’t met yet.”
One of the men tried to grab Socorro’s reins. His horse tossed his head and danced away, giving Victor the opportunity to draw his sword in a flash and slice a deep cut in the man’s wrist with a swift sweep. The injured man staggered off into the woods wailing and bleeding heavily. “I said I’m in a hurry. Move now or die.”
“Hear that, boys? He thinks he can threaten us.”
Apparently, the leader of the group hadn’t noticed that Victor had nearly sliced off the hand of one of his men. “It’s not a threat. It’s a promise.”
There was a rustling in the trees, and the outline of a rider emerged and turned to face him. “I told you idiots to take him by surprise. It’s going to be so much messier this way.” There was no mistaking that voice. Robert. “It was far too easy to lure you out, Victor. She’s pretty, and by God, she’s a good fuck, but is she really worth all this?”
Victor’s vision went red, and there was a roaring sound in his ear. It was a lie. It had to be. But the words still filled him with horror. “If you’ve touched her, you piece of shit, I’ll—”
“Now now, cousin. I’d watch my tone if I were you. You wouldn’t want your wife to come to any harm.”
It took all the self-control he could muster to refrain from disemboweling his cousin on the spot. It would be easier to find Alais with Robert alive. And he’d promised both Alais and his father not to kill him.
“Where is she? Is she here?” Victor growled.
“Of course not. I’m not a complete fool.”
“Where did you take her?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know! All you need to worry about is that I’ll take good care of your tasty little morsel after I dispatch you once and for all. Then I can take her to wife because ‘till death you do part’. Wouldn’t want her to break her vows, after all. You know, you’re an annoyingly hard man to kill.”
Victor was motionless. “It was you at the tournament. You’re in league with Matthew.”
Robert startled and looked around at the men surrounding them. Then he laughed, but it was a weak, nervous laugh. “Figured that out, have you?”
There had to be more to this than pride, Victor realized. If he was in league with Matthew, there were money problems. His father had mentioned Robert’s father’s gambling debts… “How much do you need, Robert? Father and I can help you.”
Robert laughed. “It’s not about what I need, but what I want. I want Guestling. And, I want Lady Alais. Somehow you convinced her to turn me down. Even after that, I hoped I could go back after I got rid of her other suitors by telling them I’d taken her and then offer to marry her to salvage her virtue, but you beat me to it.”
Victor shook his head. “I never said a word against you. You managed to lose her favor all by yourself. In fact, I have you to thank for my good fortune. I don’t think she’d ever have even considered me, if not for you and your little lie.” He waved his sword. “I’m giving you one last chance to tell me where she is.”
“Says the man surrounded by a dozen armed men.” Robert shook his head dismissively. Victor wasn’t fooled. Assessing the scene surreptitiously, he’d seen it was only eight—the five on the road, the one he injured, an archer in a tree beside the road, and Robert. Only Robert was mounted. Only two besides Robert had swords. The others were armed with clubs. Robert would be a challenge, for certain, and the archer would be tricky. But the rest would be all too easy to subdue. He smiled in the dark. Now that Robert was within his reach, he didn’t mind the prospect of a fight so much.
“All right, men, let’s end this,” said Robert, signaling.
A cold thrill went through Victor as he braced for battle. He cleared his mind and let his fury course through him as he prepared to end this sad party of brigands. They would pose him no problem. The main danger was that they would get in the way of his real target, Robert.
The man before him with a sword struck out. Victor smiled coldly as he ran the man through the neck. Robert backed away on his horse. Victor rode over the corpse and sliced. The harsh ring of steel against steel rang in his ears. Time to take you down, Robert.
Someone grabbed Victor’s foot and tried to drag him off his horse. Victor yanked his sword away from Robert and relieved the poor bastard of his head. Again, Victor leveled a blow at his cousin. Robert blocked, but barely. His cousin was off his game this evening. He didn’t know how to use the group to his advantage. Now it was time to remove that advantage.
Victor whirled round just in time to see the other man with a sword trying to hamstring Socorro. He saw red. “Don’t you dare touch Socorro, you filthy pig.” He punctuated the word pig with a thrust, which the man parried. Tingling at the back of his neck told him Robert was closing in from behind. So he wasted no time swinging at this minion, striking off his sword hand, and then piercing him through the eye, ending him.
He spun Socorro just in time to duck a swipe from Robert aimed at his head. He struck back. Their swords rang in the night with the force of the blow. I promised not to kill you, cousin, but you are not leaving this fight whole. Victor shoved Robert’s blade away and swung at his sword hand, missing by a hair.
“Nice try, Cousin,” Robert said as he struck Victor’s head again. The tip of his blade nicked Victor on the jaw. First blood, damn him. But Victor was filled with an unholy rage that overtook him and guided his sword as if it were an extension of his body.
Another henchman tried to grab Victor’s leg and pull him down. At the same moment, Robert thrust and pierced his shoulder in a shallow cut.
“You little shit. If you think you have me, you are sorely mistaken.” Swinging his sword in a long arc, Victor slit the throat of the man at his heels. There. No more minions with swords. Though there was still the archer to worry about, but the remaining brigands with clubs looked at the carnage and the crazed look in Victor’s eye and ran for the woods. As they scrambled, Victor turned back to Robert, slicing through his cotte, and drawing blood.
Robert struck back wildly. The fury of his onslaught put Victor on the defensive. Momentarily.
Just then, an arrow whizzed by Victor’s ear. He swore but didn’t pause in his fight. Returning as good as he got, Victor pressed Robert back and cut him deeply in the leg. Robert yelled in pain. Victor took the moment of distraction to pull out the throwing knife he always kept in his boot. He rode to the spot where he had the clearest shot at the archer. But the archer also had the clearest shot at him. The archer let loose a moment before Victor. The arrow ruffled his hair as he threw his knife.
The archer fell out of the tree, on top of his bow, breaking it, and moaned. Not a kill, but no more arrows would come his way.
He felt rather than heard Robert’s approach. They were alone now. No more distractions. Battle fury roared in his ears. Whatever you did to Alais, I promise to pay you back tenfold. Their swords clashed. Victor could see the gleaming black line of blood on Robert’s leg in the pale moonlight. Robert’s movements were wilder now. His discipline was slipping. It was Victor’s chance.
Victor executed a series of strokes calculated to get inside Robert’s guard. He almost had him. At the last second, Robert pulled away and sent his horse galloping into the night at a dangerous pace. “Fuck.” Victor tore after him, yelling, “ Roberrrrrt !”
Socorro was tiring beneath him, but Victor continued to gallop hard down the road past Hastings and continuing on toward Westfield. They came to a portion of the road that was covered in grass. It muffled Robert’s hoofbeats in the night. Victor began to worry he’d lost him.
Where could he be headed? Alais wasn’t with him, so where could she be? Robert hadn’t had time to take her very far. Should he turn back and search around Guestling? But Robert was his best chance at getting answers and ending this quickly. He continued on.
Alais must be so scared. Had Robert hurt her? He’d called her a “good fuck.” Victor’s stomach twisted into a knot at the thought, but his cousin had lied about it before. Surely, he was lying again. But if it was true…
No. She didn’t leave voluntarily. Everything suggested an abduction. If she didn’t leave voluntarily, she didn’t give Robert her body voluntarily, either. Unless…
No. He wasn’t going to doubt Alais. He had to see her. He had to hear from her own mouth what happened. He wasn’t going to be taken in by Robert’s lies. It made no sense for her to go to Robert after everything he did to her.
He’d seen her face when his cousin had appeared at Guestling. She’d been scared. He could tell—it wasn’t an act. The look on her face after Robert’s insults was enough to prove she wouldn’t go with him voluntarily.
But they’d only been married two days, and he’d blundered so badly on their wedding night. Maybe she was having second thoughts. Maybe she regretted her decision.
Still, he didn’t think she’d go to Robert. Would she?
Reaching a fork in the road, Victor paused, squinting at the foggy darkness as he pondered which road his cousin was most likely to take.
“It’s eating at you, isn’t it?”
Victor’s sword was out of its sheath and pointed at the voice in the blink of an eye. Robert’s shape took shape out of the fog.
“You didn’t notice me because you were too busy wondering if she ran away with me. Even after all my insults, maybe she prefers me to you. Maybe she regrets marrying you enough to come with me. She only married you because I left her no choice. You said so yourself. No sooner were you out of the room than she came to me, begging me to save her from a lifetime married to you. She threw herself at me, and I admit I enjoyed myself quite a bit. Such a sweet, tight little pussy she has. It’s a pity we had so little time.”
“She asked me not to kill you, but she didn’t say anything about serious maiming.” Victor moved closer to Robert.
“Serious maiming is not as satisfying as you’d think. Just look at you.”
Victor inhaled sharply. “What do you mean?”
“I meant to kill you in Spain and take Guestling. I’ve never been very good at living within my means, and I’ll admit to having enjoyed the thought of getting rid of my smug, perfect cousin. You’ve always been a pain in my arse. But Lord Amalric came riding by at the critical moment, and I had to make it look like I was saving you. I would have rather you died, but I thought at least with your new face, there was no chance of your producing an heir. Now, look where that’s gotten me.”
Victor blinked. The last year and a half rearranged itself in his mind through this new lens. So many things he’d forgiven Robert for took on a malevolent light. It wasn’t only the injury. It was also the extent to which his sense of himself and his circumstances was built on a lie.
His injury wasn’t an accident of luck. Robert had done this to him and then complained about his ingratitude and spread petty rumors about him, driving wedges between him and people he used to be close to. He lost so many friendships. He’d thought their distance was a reaction to his face and to other changes in him, but what role did Robert play?
And then there was Alais. He’d vouched for Robert as a match for her. But for her good sense, she would be Robert’s bride. He’d done nothing to prevent it. But if he’d tried to stand in the way, would it have worked? Would Alais have listened, or would she have seen him as jealous and needy, undermining Robert in a sad attempt to gain her attention? That was exactly the seed that Robert tried to plant with her, accusing him of telling her lies to undermine his suit. Poor Victor, so sad and desperate.
He meant to follow Robert, not kill him. At least, not yet. He wanted Robert to lead him to Alais. But the last thread of his control snapped. He lunged with his sword, and Robert ducked, then struck back, cutting a shallow wound across Victor’s chest. The pain sharpened his senses.
He struck out once again at his cousin, making contact. Robert cried out in pain and took off again at a gallop. Victor tore after him, all caution discarded, determined not to lose him in the fog. He came up even with him and slashed once again. Robert yelped but didn’t slacken his pace. Instead, he made a sharp and careless turn to the right, his horse plunging into the woods.
Victor tore after him, heedless of the dangers of chasing through woods in the dark in the fog. Then Socorro let out a scream of pain and stopped short, throwing him from the saddle. Victor picked himself up off the ground with a deep growl of frustration. It was no good following a man in the dark, in the fog, in the woods on foot. Nonetheless, he followed the retreating sound of Robert as long as he could manage before he acquiesced to necessity and started up the road to Westfield for help.