Page 30 of The Sword and the Damsel (The De Veres #2)

A lais’s scream stopped Victor in his tracks. Of course, Robert would go after Alais the moment Victor left her alone. He should have seen this coming.

Charging back into the shop, sword drawn. “Where is she?” he demanded. The terrified shopkeeper pointed to the back. Running, he yelled, “Robert!”

He arrived in time to see a swinging back door and a carriage moving off at some haste. He couldn’t keep up with a horse for long, but he could try. Running after the carriage, he followed it through the winding streets of Canterbury until it came to a stop in front of the Black Rooster Inn. In the distance, he saw Robert disappearing inside with Alais at knifepoint.

He heard running feet behind him and turned to see Dagobert and his men following. “Robert is in the inn,” Victor yelled to them. Dagobert nodded and sent two of his men off to alert the other groups. “He has Alais. I’m going after him.”

It took Victor’s eye a moment to adjust as he burst through the door. In the dim light of the common room, he saw a dozen men, all of them armed. Upon seeing him with a drawn sword, the serving wench immediately fled to the back, and the barkeep picked up a bludgeon.

Out of sight, there was a scream. Alais . Victor launched himself toward the doorway at the back, determined to get to her. As expected, every man in the room raised his sword. Ordinarily, he would relish the challenge, but he had no time.

The first man came at him. Victor knocked his sword away and went crashing into the second. No time. He sliced the man across the chest, leaving a dripping red line. Have to get to Alais.

Three men closed behind him. He stabbed backward. A grunt told him he hit home. She’s in his clutches.

The iron stench of blood mixed with the scents of sweat and ale that pervaded the inn.

Spinning, he hacked at one man and then the other. They were like so much wood he had to chop through to get to his wife. They fell like trees.

Alais needs me.

He heard a commotion behind him and knew it must be Dagobert and his men.

Two men stood between him and the door. He chopped. He cut. Two more men fell to the floor bleeding. He reached the door at last.

“Alais, I’m coming,” he yelled, plunging through the door headlong into another man. Victor hardly saw him. Rage pulsed through him. Desperation. His hand acted on instinct, taking down the man before him. No time.

He heard a thump and a muffled scream coming from below.

A cellar?

Ripping open the door of the first room he saw, he found nothing. The second, nothing. The third had three armed men and a trap door. One man moved to block Victor while the other two dropped down through the trap door.

Their swords clashed and clashed again. This one had some skill. It would have been fun to find out how much if he weren’t in such a desperate rush. But as he swung and slashed, only a piece of his mind was on the fight. The rest was with Alais. That monster had her. Again. And he’d allowed it. He should never have let Alais come along on this dangerous mission. What had he been thinking?

“There’s a door down here. He’s taking me away,” Alais screamed.

No! He can’t take you!

The man he’d been fighting lay bleeding and groaning at his feet. Victor ran for the cellar door and dropped down. The pressed dirt floor muffled his landing.

In the wavering light of two torches, he saw Robert by a door, huddled over something. A lock, perhaps? There were four men besides Robert, one holding Alais, two with torches, and one with sword drawn, facing toward him.

“Victor, is that you?” Alais yelled. The man holding her hit her over the head with the hilt of his sword, and she slumped sideways, then to the floor.

Victor saw red. There was a roaring in his ears. He barreled toward the man who had hit Alais, ready to rip, cut, kill.

Robert turned around and their eyes met. “Finish him,” Robert ordered, then turned back to the door, grumbling, “Damned rusty lock.”

Victor crashed against Robert’s men like an ocean wave. He was everywhere, moving so quickly they didn’t know which way was up. One of them tripped and fell to the ground. Victor stabbed. The man would never get up again.

Smashing into the man who’d hit Alais, he knocked him back. This one kept his feet and raised his sword again lightning quick, striking back. He cut Victor across his right forearm but not deeply. The pain only served to amplify Victor’s battle rage.

With swift movements, Victor backed the man into a pile of crates. No matter how the man tried to block, Victor found a way through his defenses. The man began to panic and swing wildly. Victor slashed, then thrust. The man slumped to the floor. The bastard was dead. Good riddance.

Blood dripped from Victor’s blade as he stalked toward his cousin. “It’s time to end this, Robert. Turn around and fight, you coward.”

The men with torches held their swords but did not advance. Robert turned.

With an exaggerated sigh, he said, “Never trust a henchman to do your dirty work.” He drew his sword and stepped over Alais. Over his shoulder, he ordered, “Keep trying to open that door. It’s our only way out.”

As his cousin stepped forward, Victor felt his stomach clench. Everything depended on his beating Robert once and for all. But Robert was not an easy foe. They were evenly matched. Victor took a deep breath in and a deep breath out, calming his mind and body. He couldn’t afford to let his fury cloud his mind. He needed clarity to fight with the speed and deadly precision required to not only best Robert but end his life.

Robert was cornered and all the deadlier for it. Victor looked with loathing upon his one-time companion and playmate. As children, they were practically brothers. But Robert had destroyed any vestiges of brotherly feeling Victor might have had when he kidnapped Alais, not to mention his various attempts on Victor’s life. The man was broken, beyond redemption. He had to be stopped.

I’m fighting the beast that destroyed Robert as much as I’m fighting the man who stole Alais.

Robert attacked, testing, trying to lure Victor within his reach. Victor shut him down with swift strokes.

“Maybe it’s for the best my men failed,” Robert said, circling. “This is how it should be. You and me. No one to interfere.” He struck. Victor struck back. They continued to circle.

“This is how it must end,” Victor agreed. “But it should never have come to this. You’re my family, my blood. Why do you hate me so?”

Victor twisted and stabbed. Robert dodged and slashed. Dancing to the side, Victor narrowly avoided his blade.

“Why do I hate you? How could I not? You always had everything, and I had nothing. Your father loved you. Mine hated me. You were the countess’ precious nephew. I was barely a noble. You had Guestling. I had a broken-down flour mill. And then there was you…”

With a wild yell, Robert launched himself at Victor, who dodged to the side in the nick of time.

“You were so good.” Robert slashed.

“And smart.” He thrust.

“And handsome.” He cut.

“And talented.” He swung his blade, missing Victor’s neck by an inch. “It was disgusting.”

Victor countered each stroke with precision, watching for any hole in his cousin’s defenses.

“And even now after I ruined your perfect face,” Robert continued, “you’re the one Lady Alais prefers. You’re Lord Daniel’s commander. And you’re still the fucking heir to Guestling.”

Robert attacked again, and Victor struggled to keep his calm in the face of it. No, I have to keep my wits about me. I need precision, accuracy. It’s the only way to save Alais.

“Why do you want Guestling so much? It’s a tiny market village, not much more productive than your mill.”

Spotting a hole in Robert’s defense, Victor struck. Robert blocked just in time. “I don’t want Guestling. I need it. I’m in debt up to my ears, and Matthew’s going to kill me if I don’t pay him off. I needed Lady Alais’s dowry too, but it’s too late for that. Though perhaps there’s some way I can get my hands on it once you’re dead.”

“God’s blood, Robert. Why couldn’t you just ask for help?

Father and I would have been more than willing before all of this.”

His words seemed to enrage his cousin beyond anything else he’d said so far. Robert attacked with deadly fury and succeeded in giving Victor a deep cut along his ribs.

“I’m not your fucking charity case,” Robert yelled, kicking Victor in the side where he’d wounded him.

Victor stumbled, barely catching himself. He was in trouble.

Just at that moment, one of the men with torches yelled, “Sir Robert, I got the door open.”

Robert looked away for a split second. It was the opening Victor needed. Lunging forward, he stabbed, catching his cousin in the side.

Robert’s eyes went wide, and he roared in pain, stumbling. One of his men caught him and pulled him toward the door. The other dropped his torch and grabbed Alais, dragging her. Victor was losing them.

There was a mad scramble by the door, and Victor threw himself forward. Then Robert gave an unearthly scream and collapsed to the ground.

The two men disappeared into the neighboring cellar.

Alais stood, shaking, with a dagger dripping blood on her gown. “It’s finished,” she said, dropping the dagger as if it burned her.

There Robert lay in a growing pool of blood, the monster dead at last, only the limp body of his dead cousin left.

Victor threw his arms around Alais. “You’re safe, my love. You’re safe.”

She trembled in his arms. “I didn’t want to kill him, but I had no choice. I woke up, and they were dragging me away. But I could finally reach my knife.”

“He gave you no choice.” He hugged her closely to him. “I’m so sorry he took you again. I never should have let you out of my sight.”

Another tremor shook her head to toe.

“Let’s get you out of this dark cellar, shall we?” he said, grabbing the torch off the ground.

She nodded, leaning heavily on him. She was in shock and no wonder. He needed to get her back to the castle.

As he turned to leave, he took one last look at his cousin. In death, the monster that twisted him was gone. All he saw was the shell of his childhood companion. He reached to gently close his eyes and said a silent prayer for the soul of the deceased. It was over.

Carefully guiding Alais, he helped her up the ladder. When he arrived in the common room, an unexpected sight greeted him. Dagobert was locked in fierce combat with Sir Elias with Dagobert’s men surrounding the pair, swords drawn.

“What is this?” he asked one of Dagobert’s men, who was standing nearby.

“Turns out Sir Elias is Matthew. Several of his men recognized him when he came in today with the Watch, and they betrayed him to us, begging us to spare their lives.”

Sir Elias ? Facts rearranged themselves in his head. It made sense. He was in Winchelsea for the tournament when the merchant was killed. He had taken deadly aim at Victor during the tournament, presumably hoping to take him down so that Robert could inherit and pay his debts.

Why did he turn on Robert now? Because Robert had foolishly drawn the attention of the rulers of Winchelsea, Hastings, and Canterbury. He likely deemed it too dangerous to let Robert live.

Victor eased Alais into a chair and drew his sword. He had a score to settle with Matthew. Dagobert’s men parted for him, and Dagobert smiled as he joined the fight.

“It’s over, Sir Elias. You know I’m the better sword. Surrender now,” Victor said, joining Dagobert in an attack.

Sir Elias spat on the floor as he attempted to block the rain of blows. “I’d rather die in combat than at the end of a gibbet.”

“We don’t always get what we want,” Victor said as he spun behind Matthew and slashed at the backs of his knees, slicing through flesh and sinew. Matthew collapsed on the floor like a puppet whose strings had been cut. Dagobert quickly disarmed him, and one of his men tied him up.

“I’ve been hunting Matthew for two years,” said Dagobert. “And to think all that time he was hidden in plain sight. The archbishop will be pleased to see justice served at last.”

Victor sheathed his sword and went back to Alais. “Now it is truly finished. We can go back to Winchelsea with no deadly threats hanging over our heads.”

Helping her up, he pulled her into an embrace and kissed her hair. “Do you feel well enough to ride?”

“I think so.”

“Then let’s go get our horses and head back to the castle.”