Part 30
Nottingham Castle
Sir Kyle marched down the steep stone stairs behind the servant with the torch, his steps sure. Three days ago, he probably would have tripped and fallen to the bottom.
But that was ancient history. He was no longer that Kyle. He was no longer the whining, puny whelp who had embarrassed his father and had lost his betrothed.
For the first time in a long time, his pathway was clear to him. He was no longer faltering. He knew that he was making his father proud.
Revenge. It was sweet and it was powerful. And it was turning him into the man that he had never thought he could be.
Strong. Feared.
Triumphant.
It was enough to almost make him consider thanking Maxwell of Huntington when he finally had him in his power.
Almost, but not quite.
Instead he would kill him, slowly. But only after he had allowed him to witness the torture and deaths of all he held dear. The death of Lord Edmund DeHarding had only been the beginning.
Oh, and he might let him attend the wedding. In chains of course.
Kyle smirked to himself at the unbidden thought of even having the bastard forced to watch him make Elizabeth his in every way.
But then, a lady's wedding night was sacred. Even if Kyle now despised his betrothed, she WOULD be the mother of his heirs. That might be pushing it a little. His father had always believed in treating ladies with respect. While Kyle now knew that Elizabeth was no lady, she would still be his wife.
No, the Sheriff would not approve of allowing Maxwell of Huntington's presence to soil the sacredness of the marriage chamber.
Damnit.
Kyle had paused on the stairs during these reflections. He took a deep breath, forcing the image of Elizabeth, white and naked and writhing beneath him, out of his mind.
He allowed what he imagined Maxwell of Huntington's expression would be in that scenario to remain.
He wasn't a Saint after all.
He and the torch-bearer had reached the bottom of the stairs. Kyle shivered involuntarily in the damp. He motioned to the guard who had climbed to his feet wearily upon Kyle's appearance. "Show me."
The guard stumbled to the heavy oak door, fumbling with the iron keys momentarily before he inserted the correct one. The door swung open. The shadows of the cell forced Kyle to adjust his eyesight before he grabbed the torch out of the hands of his servant and thrust it in.
So she had not lied. She had done it, had not betrayed him.
Michael of Huntington had been captured.
The outlaw was sprawled on the dirty straw, his arms in chains. Those hands were deadly weapons, Kyle now knew. He was taking no chances.
Even now, Kyle could see the dark bruising all over Michael's face. He had been informed that once Michael had realized what was happening, he had been a force to be reckoned with.
Father Desmond had not lied. Maxwell of Huntington and his kin WERE demons. The three men who had finally brought him down were the only three still alive.
The other twelve did not have a mark on them. And yet, they were no less dead for that fact.
From what Kyle had heard, the only reason the three still lived was that one of them had intelligently thought to hold a blade to Lady Elizabeth's throat.
It was the only thing that had stopped the demon.
It caused another shiver to descend his spine. Kyle shrugged it away impatiently. He was not afraid. Demons could still die. Had not Lord Edmund gone down quite easily?
Kyle moved forward, kicked Michael, hard, in the side. "Wake up outlaw."
The taller boy simply moaned, rolled over, but did not open his eyes.
Kyle scowled, kicked him again. "Get up you piece of filth!" He motioned behind him. The servant and the guard moved forward, pushed and prodded Michael until he was leaning up against the damp stone wall. The guard threw a gourdful of water into his face.
Michael sputtered, painfully opened his eyes. It took him long moments to focus on Kyle. When he did, Kyle could see him inhale sharply. "You bastard! Where is she?"
"Are you referring to your slut of a sister or to my wayward betrothed?" Kyle asked, enjoying the scowl of outrage that appeared on Michael's face. "They are both safe - for now." He added ominously.
Kyle had not yet seen Elizabeth. She had been imprisoned on the far side of the Castle. When he had ridden in, the dungeon had been closer and so he had come here first.
Besides, dealing with Michael was fun. He hated Michael.
The encounter with Elizabeth was going to be far less pleasant, for while he despised her, he certainly did not hate her.
He wish he did. But deep down inside of him, he was forced to admit, that a small piece of his heart was still hoping that she could come to love him, that she would see him as someone of worth.
As for Tess, well, she was definitely safe. In fact, she was presently ensconced in his own chambers, likely still wrapped naked in the furs on his bed, where he had last left her.
Kyle wondered if she had been lounging thus when she had created the mind-warp that had brought her own brother into his power.
It had been a pleasant surprise to discover that his bait was such an evil little whore.
But then, her need for revenge was almost as great as his. Too bad he was going to have to kill her when this was all over.
Kyle smirked to himself as he recalled Tess's first words to him when he had visited her in this exact same dungeon the morning before.
"I want to help you."
Kyle had tilted his head to the side, admiring despite himself, the way her long blonde curls had tumbled around her small bare shoulders. Her gown had barely existed by the time the guards had been through with her. She was filthy, but she was still pretty.
She was no beauty on the level of Elizabeth, but she was charming nonetheless. Maybe he should not have allowed his guards to have their way with her. He did not enjoy sloppy seconds after all.
"How can you help me little slut?" He had asked, amused. "And why should I believe you?"
Tess had not replied, had simply closed her eyes. The next thing Kyle knew, he felt his own arms being twisted behind him. Maxwell of Huntington's voice, dripping with malice, had been close to his ear. "You are going to die DeValence. Slowly. I will punish you for what you did to my Tess."
And Kyle had known that he was not long for this world.
In the instant after he accepted this fact, Maxwell was suddenly gone, as though he had never existed.
Which he had not of course.
Tess had explained that she had done it, a saucy little grin on her face. Kyle had stared at her in open astonishment as she had explained about her power, about how she could make people see things, feel things that were not real.
How could this girl be the same innocent dove he had met at Castle DeHarding the month before, the girl who had held onto every word out of Maxwell's mouth? The girl he was supposed to use as bait because the others thought that she could not look after herself?
But she had proven her worth, in more ways than one. He could still feel the scratch marks on his back from the hours they had spent in his bed while they had plotted how to bring her betrothed and his brother to their knees.
Well, the brother had been defeated now. It was only a matter of time until he had Maxwell DeValence as well.
He was so busy gloating to himself that he almost missed the disdainful grin that had appeared on Michael's face. "Your betrothed? I don't care about your betrothed. Who did you convince to marry you? Elizabeth has come to her senses after all."
Kyle stared at Michael, uncomprehending. What was the villain talking about? Had all those smacks to his face addled his wits? "I am speaking of Elizabeth you imbecile. As far as I am aware, we are still legally betrothed. The Queen has made no break, in fact, likely still has no idea what is occurring here."
A flash of shock crossed Michael's face, but he quickly suppressed it. "The Queen was never coming to Nottingham, was she?"
"No." Kyle allowed, trying to resist a self-satisfied smile. Gloating was not powerful. Michael should think that these events were all inevitable after all. He was more intelligent and more worthy than either Maxwell or Michael. "I know how my betrothed's mind works. She would have seen the Queen's arrival as the answer to all her prayers. I knew that it would bring her out of that damned Forest."
"I wish you would stop calling her your betrothed." Michael replied, sounding bored. He flinched but didn't cry out when the guard cuffed him, hard, on the shoulder for his impertinence. "She cannot be your betrothed and Max's wife at the same time."
It took a moment for what the outlaw had just said to penetrate. Kyle felt rage building within him. It was so great, he realized that he was on the verge of losing all control. "What are you saying?" He managed to sputter, even more angry when he realized that he had been taken by complete surprise.
"Just what I said." Michael replied, his head tilted as he seemed to enjoy watching Kyle's face turn red. "They are married. In fact, they have been so for more than three days. You have no claim on that girl now. It would be in all of our best interests for you to just let her go."
Kyle did not answer. He simply smashed his fist into Michael's face. Since the prisoner had no way to bring his hands up to protect himself, the full brunt of the punch forced his head back against the wall, where is struck, hard. Kyle watched in satisfaction as the demon sank back into unconsciousness.
He would deal with Michael of Huntington later. It would be a pleasure to take that smug attitude of his and thrust it down his throat, using various torture devices at Kyle's disposal.
But for now, he had to see Tess. Their plan was going awry. He could not quite grasp the concept that Elizabeth had actually defied him, and in consequence the Queen, by marrying Maxwell so precipitously. She was turning into an unacceptably flighty bitch. When he had finally killed Maxwell, he was going to have to beat that out of her dammit.
With that, he turned on his heel, his cloak swirling around his mail-clad body as he took the stairs back up to the center of the keep two at a time. He stormed across the courtyard, sending chicken and urchins flying as he kicked them out of the way.
The heavy door leading to his chambers bounced back against the wall. The blonde witch stood motionless in the center of the room, fully dressed, her head having whipped around upon his entrance. She stared at him with her guileless blue eyes, those eyes which hid more evil than even he was capable of understanding.
"They are married!" He bellowed, his voice ricocheting off the stone walls and almost echoing in its intensity.
Tess did not move, just continued to stare at him. For a moment, she looked as though he had punched her in the gut, but the mask descended over her pretty features almost as quickly as she opened her mouth. "And so my plan will only work that much more easily." She replied, her voice weak at first, but strengthening with each word. "Her seeming betrayal will destroy him - a marriage between them will only reinforce it. He will be infuriated that he trusted her that much and that she turned on him."
Kyle could feel his heart beginning to slow under the silky assurance of her words. "Are you sure of it?"
"I know Max. If there is one thing he will not stand for, it is a traitor." Tess replied. She smiled, not seeming a bit fazed by the fact that she was, in fact a traitor as well. "Which is why it is even more important that he never know that we are working together." She moved towards him, trailed a finger up his chest. Kyle could barely feel it through his mail, but it caused a frisson of desire to claim him nonetheless. "You will have your Elizabeth and I will have my betrothed back. We will leave this forsaken country and you will never hear from us again."
Kyle looked away briefly. He had told Tess that he would not hurt Maxwell should he catch him, had in fact told her that both he and Michael would be released once he had Elizabeth returned to him. It was, of course, a bald-faced lie, but he had to be sure that she never realized that he intended to kill them all. The last thing he needed was her demon powers turned on him.
He would return them all to Hell before that could ever happen.
"Michael does not suspect at all?" Tess inquired, moving away from him and pouring him a flagon of wine.
"Your boast that you could change his memories of what occurred seems accurate." Kyle replied, taking the wine and beginning to breathe heavily as she trailed her hand over his and up his arm. She began to untie the straps that held his mail to his body. "I just do not understand why it was him with her and not Maxwell."
"Good." Tess said, taking the flagon back after he had taken a long swig. She watched him through shuttered eyes as he pulled his mail shirt over his head, followed by the wool tunic underneath. "And as for your question, I am wagering that Maxwell did not even know what she intended." She scowled momentarily, but returned to running her hands over his chest a moment later. "He would not have allowed her to put herself in such danger." She said disdainfully. "And so she had already betrayed him by allowing herself to be captured. The next step will only put the final nail in the coffin."
But Kyle was not even listening to her anymore. All he was aware of were her hands, everywhere, seemingly, at once.
"I should really go see Elizabeth." Kyle told her, watching as she began to untie the gown he had taken from Elizabeth's chamber for her use. They were of a size, the two girls, which only emphasized all the other differences, physical and personality-wise. He did not care for Tess as a person, but there was no question that she was a tasty little morsel, one he fully intended to enjoy as long as he could.
"Not yet." Tess replied, bringing her hand up behind his head and pulling him down so that their lips were a mere breath apart. "Not yet."
********************************************************
Sherwood, near Nottingham
Max came to an abrupt stop, his eyes wide. "Mary. Stay where you are." He managed to order before bile began to rise in his throat. He quickly stepped to the side to block her view of what they had just stumbled upon, swallowing hard.
The fact that he hadn't lowered his voice seemed to indicate to his companion that they were in no immediate danger, however, because she simply stepped around him, then gasped. Max shook his head in exasperation, but could not take his eyes from the sight of the body hanging from a tree in the middle of the King's Highway.
"It is Lord Edmund Max! Is it not?" She asked, her voice low.
"It is." Max replied shortly.
"We must cut him down!" Mary told him. "We must give him a proper Christian burial!" She had placed her hand on his arm, clearly trying to comfort him. Max felt her hand tighten on his arm as a sudden realization hit her. "Oh Max! Do you think Michael saw this?"
"If you are correct that the Queen will rest for the night at the Convent before entering Nottingham tomorrow, and if Liz knew this, then it is highly probable that they saw it." Max told her. He knew his voice sounded hollow. But grief for his guardian and fear now that he had concrete proof that he was really gone, they were rising within him so rapidly, he was having trouble standing up.
When Michael had told them that Lord Edmund was dead, Max had believed him, but it had been a concept far from his realm of understanding. Death was something foreign to him. He and his siblings had always been sheltered from it growing up at DeHarding Castle. While they had always been aware that their very lives were a miracle, until this moment he had not understood how large of one. How had they been reborn from THIS?
Death was emptiness. Staring at his guardian's body, swinging gently in the evening breeze that ran through the Forest, Max could see that whatever spark there had been within that shell was gone.
Lord Edmund was gone. They were truly alone on this planet. They were alone with no true understanding of how to return to Antar or how to protect themselves.
How could he and Isabel have been so foolish as to wish for freedom from Lord Edmund? How could they not have understood that he represented security and the future?
And his death was all Max's fault. His recklessness had brought this on. His complete disregard for his duty and what his very existence meant had led to this.
His love for Liz had led to this.
This wasn't even the worst part. Because Max could not even be sorry. He would have traded Lord Edmund's life a thousand times over for even one moment in Elizabeth's presence.
What kind of king, what kind of PERSON, did that fact make him?
"Max?" Mary sounded frightened now. "Are you well? What are we going to do with him?"
"We will leave him." Max said, his tone harsh. "We can not allow the Sheriff's men to know that we have passed this way. If we remove his body, they will know."
Max could feel Mary's shock, rather than see it. He didn't look at her. "Lord Edmund would have wanted it this way." He added. "His only purpose, his only goal ever, was to protect us."
He turned abruptly, began crashing his way through the underbrush. He knew Mary was following him, although, for the first time since they had separated from Alexander and Isabel hours before, she was completely silent.
Max realized that he missed her chatter. Her conversation had not allowed him to dwell over-long on his own thoughts, on his own guilt. But now they came flooding back with a vengeance.
He had caused this. All of it. Lord Edmund's death, Tess's capture, Michael's confusion, Isabel's torn loyalties. They had all been innocent, had simply followed him, as they had been born and bred to do.
Mary and Alexander were even more innocent and they were now outlaws who were on the verge of losing their lands and their position.
And Elizabeth. His beloved wife. His soul. She was in danger simply because she loved him.
For the first time, he realized that perhaps she would be better off without him.
He had told her that he had married her to protect her from Sir Kyle. He was still astounded that she had not seen this for the lie it was. But then, even HE had not recognized the falsehood.
He had married her for inherently selfish reasons. He had married her because, having found her, he did not think that he could live without her.
Her safety, what was best for her, had not mattered to him.
He did not deserve her.
It was all becoming clear. He had been denying it for too long, but the sight of Lord Edmund's body had made it completely unavoidable.
There was only one thing to do.
He had to give her up.
Nottingham Castle
Sir Kyle marched down the steep stone stairs behind the servant with the torch, his steps sure. Three days ago, he probably would have tripped and fallen to the bottom.
But that was ancient history. He was no longer that Kyle. He was no longer the whining, puny whelp who had embarrassed his father and had lost his betrothed.
For the first time in a long time, his pathway was clear to him. He was no longer faltering. He knew that he was making his father proud.
Revenge. It was sweet and it was powerful. And it was turning him into the man that he had never thought he could be.
Strong. Feared.
Triumphant.
It was enough to almost make him consider thanking Maxwell of Huntington when he finally had him in his power.
Almost, but not quite.
Instead he would kill him, slowly. But only after he had allowed him to witness the torture and deaths of all he held dear. The death of Lord Edmund DeHarding had only been the beginning.
Oh, and he might let him attend the wedding. In chains of course.
Kyle smirked to himself at the unbidden thought of even having the bastard forced to watch him make Elizabeth his in every way.
But then, a lady's wedding night was sacred. Even if Kyle now despised his betrothed, she WOULD be the mother of his heirs. That might be pushing it a little. His father had always believed in treating ladies with respect. While Kyle now knew that Elizabeth was no lady, she would still be his wife.
No, the Sheriff would not approve of allowing Maxwell of Huntington's presence to soil the sacredness of the marriage chamber.
Damnit.
Kyle had paused on the stairs during these reflections. He took a deep breath, forcing the image of Elizabeth, white and naked and writhing beneath him, out of his mind.
He allowed what he imagined Maxwell of Huntington's expression would be in that scenario to remain.
He wasn't a Saint after all.
He and the torch-bearer had reached the bottom of the stairs. Kyle shivered involuntarily in the damp. He motioned to the guard who had climbed to his feet wearily upon Kyle's appearance. "Show me."
The guard stumbled to the heavy oak door, fumbling with the iron keys momentarily before he inserted the correct one. The door swung open. The shadows of the cell forced Kyle to adjust his eyesight before he grabbed the torch out of the hands of his servant and thrust it in.
So she had not lied. She had done it, had not betrayed him.
Michael of Huntington had been captured.
The outlaw was sprawled on the dirty straw, his arms in chains. Those hands were deadly weapons, Kyle now knew. He was taking no chances.
Even now, Kyle could see the dark bruising all over Michael's face. He had been informed that once Michael had realized what was happening, he had been a force to be reckoned with.
Father Desmond had not lied. Maxwell of Huntington and his kin WERE demons. The three men who had finally brought him down were the only three still alive.
The other twelve did not have a mark on them. And yet, they were no less dead for that fact.
From what Kyle had heard, the only reason the three still lived was that one of them had intelligently thought to hold a blade to Lady Elizabeth's throat.
It was the only thing that had stopped the demon.
It caused another shiver to descend his spine. Kyle shrugged it away impatiently. He was not afraid. Demons could still die. Had not Lord Edmund gone down quite easily?
Kyle moved forward, kicked Michael, hard, in the side. "Wake up outlaw."
The taller boy simply moaned, rolled over, but did not open his eyes.
Kyle scowled, kicked him again. "Get up you piece of filth!" He motioned behind him. The servant and the guard moved forward, pushed and prodded Michael until he was leaning up against the damp stone wall. The guard threw a gourdful of water into his face.
Michael sputtered, painfully opened his eyes. It took him long moments to focus on Kyle. When he did, Kyle could see him inhale sharply. "You bastard! Where is she?"
"Are you referring to your slut of a sister or to my wayward betrothed?" Kyle asked, enjoying the scowl of outrage that appeared on Michael's face. "They are both safe - for now." He added ominously.
Kyle had not yet seen Elizabeth. She had been imprisoned on the far side of the Castle. When he had ridden in, the dungeon had been closer and so he had come here first.
Besides, dealing with Michael was fun. He hated Michael.
The encounter with Elizabeth was going to be far less pleasant, for while he despised her, he certainly did not hate her.
He wish he did. But deep down inside of him, he was forced to admit, that a small piece of his heart was still hoping that she could come to love him, that she would see him as someone of worth.
As for Tess, well, she was definitely safe. In fact, she was presently ensconced in his own chambers, likely still wrapped naked in the furs on his bed, where he had last left her.
Kyle wondered if she had been lounging thus when she had created the mind-warp that had brought her own brother into his power.
It had been a pleasant surprise to discover that his bait was such an evil little whore.
But then, her need for revenge was almost as great as his. Too bad he was going to have to kill her when this was all over.
Kyle smirked to himself as he recalled Tess's first words to him when he had visited her in this exact same dungeon the morning before.
"I want to help you."
Kyle had tilted his head to the side, admiring despite himself, the way her long blonde curls had tumbled around her small bare shoulders. Her gown had barely existed by the time the guards had been through with her. She was filthy, but she was still pretty.
She was no beauty on the level of Elizabeth, but she was charming nonetheless. Maybe he should not have allowed his guards to have their way with her. He did not enjoy sloppy seconds after all.
"How can you help me little slut?" He had asked, amused. "And why should I believe you?"
Tess had not replied, had simply closed her eyes. The next thing Kyle knew, he felt his own arms being twisted behind him. Maxwell of Huntington's voice, dripping with malice, had been close to his ear. "You are going to die DeValence. Slowly. I will punish you for what you did to my Tess."
And Kyle had known that he was not long for this world.
In the instant after he accepted this fact, Maxwell was suddenly gone, as though he had never existed.
Which he had not of course.
Tess had explained that she had done it, a saucy little grin on her face. Kyle had stared at her in open astonishment as she had explained about her power, about how she could make people see things, feel things that were not real.
How could this girl be the same innocent dove he had met at Castle DeHarding the month before, the girl who had held onto every word out of Maxwell's mouth? The girl he was supposed to use as bait because the others thought that she could not look after herself?
But she had proven her worth, in more ways than one. He could still feel the scratch marks on his back from the hours they had spent in his bed while they had plotted how to bring her betrothed and his brother to their knees.
Well, the brother had been defeated now. It was only a matter of time until he had Maxwell DeValence as well.
He was so busy gloating to himself that he almost missed the disdainful grin that had appeared on Michael's face. "Your betrothed? I don't care about your betrothed. Who did you convince to marry you? Elizabeth has come to her senses after all."
Kyle stared at Michael, uncomprehending. What was the villain talking about? Had all those smacks to his face addled his wits? "I am speaking of Elizabeth you imbecile. As far as I am aware, we are still legally betrothed. The Queen has made no break, in fact, likely still has no idea what is occurring here."
A flash of shock crossed Michael's face, but he quickly suppressed it. "The Queen was never coming to Nottingham, was she?"
"No." Kyle allowed, trying to resist a self-satisfied smile. Gloating was not powerful. Michael should think that these events were all inevitable after all. He was more intelligent and more worthy than either Maxwell or Michael. "I know how my betrothed's mind works. She would have seen the Queen's arrival as the answer to all her prayers. I knew that it would bring her out of that damned Forest."
"I wish you would stop calling her your betrothed." Michael replied, sounding bored. He flinched but didn't cry out when the guard cuffed him, hard, on the shoulder for his impertinence. "She cannot be your betrothed and Max's wife at the same time."
It took a moment for what the outlaw had just said to penetrate. Kyle felt rage building within him. It was so great, he realized that he was on the verge of losing all control. "What are you saying?" He managed to sputter, even more angry when he realized that he had been taken by complete surprise.
"Just what I said." Michael replied, his head tilted as he seemed to enjoy watching Kyle's face turn red. "They are married. In fact, they have been so for more than three days. You have no claim on that girl now. It would be in all of our best interests for you to just let her go."
Kyle did not answer. He simply smashed his fist into Michael's face. Since the prisoner had no way to bring his hands up to protect himself, the full brunt of the punch forced his head back against the wall, where is struck, hard. Kyle watched in satisfaction as the demon sank back into unconsciousness.
He would deal with Michael of Huntington later. It would be a pleasure to take that smug attitude of his and thrust it down his throat, using various torture devices at Kyle's disposal.
But for now, he had to see Tess. Their plan was going awry. He could not quite grasp the concept that Elizabeth had actually defied him, and in consequence the Queen, by marrying Maxwell so precipitously. She was turning into an unacceptably flighty bitch. When he had finally killed Maxwell, he was going to have to beat that out of her dammit.
With that, he turned on his heel, his cloak swirling around his mail-clad body as he took the stairs back up to the center of the keep two at a time. He stormed across the courtyard, sending chicken and urchins flying as he kicked them out of the way.
The heavy door leading to his chambers bounced back against the wall. The blonde witch stood motionless in the center of the room, fully dressed, her head having whipped around upon his entrance. She stared at him with her guileless blue eyes, those eyes which hid more evil than even he was capable of understanding.
"They are married!" He bellowed, his voice ricocheting off the stone walls and almost echoing in its intensity.
Tess did not move, just continued to stare at him. For a moment, she looked as though he had punched her in the gut, but the mask descended over her pretty features almost as quickly as she opened her mouth. "And so my plan will only work that much more easily." She replied, her voice weak at first, but strengthening with each word. "Her seeming betrayal will destroy him - a marriage between them will only reinforce it. He will be infuriated that he trusted her that much and that she turned on him."
Kyle could feel his heart beginning to slow under the silky assurance of her words. "Are you sure of it?"
"I know Max. If there is one thing he will not stand for, it is a traitor." Tess replied. She smiled, not seeming a bit fazed by the fact that she was, in fact a traitor as well. "Which is why it is even more important that he never know that we are working together." She moved towards him, trailed a finger up his chest. Kyle could barely feel it through his mail, but it caused a frisson of desire to claim him nonetheless. "You will have your Elizabeth and I will have my betrothed back. We will leave this forsaken country and you will never hear from us again."
Kyle looked away briefly. He had told Tess that he would not hurt Maxwell should he catch him, had in fact told her that both he and Michael would be released once he had Elizabeth returned to him. It was, of course, a bald-faced lie, but he had to be sure that she never realized that he intended to kill them all. The last thing he needed was her demon powers turned on him.
He would return them all to Hell before that could ever happen.
"Michael does not suspect at all?" Tess inquired, moving away from him and pouring him a flagon of wine.
"Your boast that you could change his memories of what occurred seems accurate." Kyle replied, taking the wine and beginning to breathe heavily as she trailed her hand over his and up his arm. She began to untie the straps that held his mail to his body. "I just do not understand why it was him with her and not Maxwell."
"Good." Tess said, taking the flagon back after he had taken a long swig. She watched him through shuttered eyes as he pulled his mail shirt over his head, followed by the wool tunic underneath. "And as for your question, I am wagering that Maxwell did not even know what she intended." She scowled momentarily, but returned to running her hands over his chest a moment later. "He would not have allowed her to put herself in such danger." She said disdainfully. "And so she had already betrayed him by allowing herself to be captured. The next step will only put the final nail in the coffin."
But Kyle was not even listening to her anymore. All he was aware of were her hands, everywhere, seemingly, at once.
"I should really go see Elizabeth." Kyle told her, watching as she began to untie the gown he had taken from Elizabeth's chamber for her use. They were of a size, the two girls, which only emphasized all the other differences, physical and personality-wise. He did not care for Tess as a person, but there was no question that she was a tasty little morsel, one he fully intended to enjoy as long as he could.
"Not yet." Tess replied, bringing her hand up behind his head and pulling him down so that their lips were a mere breath apart. "Not yet."
********************************************************
Sherwood, near Nottingham
Max came to an abrupt stop, his eyes wide. "Mary. Stay where you are." He managed to order before bile began to rise in his throat. He quickly stepped to the side to block her view of what they had just stumbled upon, swallowing hard.
The fact that he hadn't lowered his voice seemed to indicate to his companion that they were in no immediate danger, however, because she simply stepped around him, then gasped. Max shook his head in exasperation, but could not take his eyes from the sight of the body hanging from a tree in the middle of the King's Highway.
"It is Lord Edmund Max! Is it not?" She asked, her voice low.
"It is." Max replied shortly.
"We must cut him down!" Mary told him. "We must give him a proper Christian burial!" She had placed her hand on his arm, clearly trying to comfort him. Max felt her hand tighten on his arm as a sudden realization hit her. "Oh Max! Do you think Michael saw this?"
"If you are correct that the Queen will rest for the night at the Convent before entering Nottingham tomorrow, and if Liz knew this, then it is highly probable that they saw it." Max told her. He knew his voice sounded hollow. But grief for his guardian and fear now that he had concrete proof that he was really gone, they were rising within him so rapidly, he was having trouble standing up.
When Michael had told them that Lord Edmund was dead, Max had believed him, but it had been a concept far from his realm of understanding. Death was something foreign to him. He and his siblings had always been sheltered from it growing up at DeHarding Castle. While they had always been aware that their very lives were a miracle, until this moment he had not understood how large of one. How had they been reborn from THIS?
Death was emptiness. Staring at his guardian's body, swinging gently in the evening breeze that ran through the Forest, Max could see that whatever spark there had been within that shell was gone.
Lord Edmund was gone. They were truly alone on this planet. They were alone with no true understanding of how to return to Antar or how to protect themselves.
How could he and Isabel have been so foolish as to wish for freedom from Lord Edmund? How could they not have understood that he represented security and the future?
And his death was all Max's fault. His recklessness had brought this on. His complete disregard for his duty and what his very existence meant had led to this.
His love for Liz had led to this.
This wasn't even the worst part. Because Max could not even be sorry. He would have traded Lord Edmund's life a thousand times over for even one moment in Elizabeth's presence.
What kind of king, what kind of PERSON, did that fact make him?
"Max?" Mary sounded frightened now. "Are you well? What are we going to do with him?"
"We will leave him." Max said, his tone harsh. "We can not allow the Sheriff's men to know that we have passed this way. If we remove his body, they will know."
Max could feel Mary's shock, rather than see it. He didn't look at her. "Lord Edmund would have wanted it this way." He added. "His only purpose, his only goal ever, was to protect us."
He turned abruptly, began crashing his way through the underbrush. He knew Mary was following him, although, for the first time since they had separated from Alexander and Isabel hours before, she was completely silent.
Max realized that he missed her chatter. Her conversation had not allowed him to dwell over-long on his own thoughts, on his own guilt. But now they came flooding back with a vengeance.
He had caused this. All of it. Lord Edmund's death, Tess's capture, Michael's confusion, Isabel's torn loyalties. They had all been innocent, had simply followed him, as they had been born and bred to do.
Mary and Alexander were even more innocent and they were now outlaws who were on the verge of losing their lands and their position.
And Elizabeth. His beloved wife. His soul. She was in danger simply because she loved him.
For the first time, he realized that perhaps she would be better off without him.
He had told her that he had married her to protect her from Sir Kyle. He was still astounded that she had not seen this for the lie it was. But then, even HE had not recognized the falsehood.
He had married her for inherently selfish reasons. He had married her because, having found her, he did not think that he could live without her.
Her safety, what was best for her, had not mattered to him.
He did not deserve her.
It was all becoming clear. He had been denying it for too long, but the sight of Lord Edmund's body had made it completely unavoidable.
There was only one thing to do.
He had to give her up.