Chapter Fifteen
Clark raced through the gates of Blackwood Castle, stopping in the inner bailey to catch his breath. The guard at the gatehouse was still fast asleep. He had to say he wasn't too impressed with the security around here.
"Sir Kendrick, whatever brings you out here in the middle of the night?"
Shit. He turned in the direction of the voice, discerning the figure of Lothar emerging from the shadows. "Uhh, nothing, my lord. Just out for a walk."
Blackwood arched a heavy brow. "I did not know you were in the habit of late-night walks."
"I might say the same about you."
"Have you seen the gardens by night?" Blackwood replied, his expression almost beatific. "They are quite lovely. The way the moonlight bounces off the jasmine blossoms… Lianne would love them."
Clark stiffened. "The lady is determined to escape you."
"So she thinks. But she is a prize worth fighting for, Kendrick. You probably know that, from the time you spent with her."
"She is a rare beauty," he agreed carefully.
"Then perhaps you know why it was so important to keep her protected. I could think of no one better suited for the job than you."
Jeez, would the man ever shut up? "I am happy to serve you, my lord."
"You actually take the chivalric code seriously. I always liked that about you," Blackwood went on. "I know I can count on your loyalty… can't I, Kendrick?"
Blackwood's gaze was making him increasingly uncomfortable. But Clark kept his cool, saying simply, "Aye, my lord."
Blackwood nodded and retreated back into the shadows. Clark breathed a sigh of relief. That was a close one, he thought, and fled into the keep.
At Langdon, the days leading up to the battle passed by in a blur. Catapults were constructed, weapons gathered, strategy discussed. The day of the battle found Lana standing on the battlements with Gillian, watching the orange-red glow of torchlight as Blackwood's forces moved closer. Men were stationed all along the ramparts, ready to defend their castle with bows, arrows, catapults, and vats of boiling oil.
Presently Gillian arrived with a couple of knights, who were hauling a barrow up to the battlements. "Check this out," she said with a grin. "We found Greek Fire!"
"Greek Fire?" Lana echoed.
"Yeah. This stuff is the shit," Gillian said excitedly. "One spark and boom! Water can't put out the flames. It was the secret weapon of the Byzantines. To this day no one has figured out exactly how to make it."
Lana shuddered. "It sounds horrible."
"I'll put it this way: I wouldn't want to be the poor bastards on the other side."
Lana threw a worried glance at Blackwood's approaching army. Clark had not returned. He's marching in with them, she thought, shivering in the cool night air. What happened once the battle started? What if he was hurt or worse yet, killed—by her own men?
Whatever had possessed him to play both sides? Lana swore that sometimes the guy had more guts than brains.
But he's always come through for me, she reminded herself. She prayed that the streak would hold up one more time.
Clark rode next to Blackwood. Ahead of them, Langdon Castle loomed like a giant stone sentry, aglow with the light of thousands of torches. Even from here, it was easy to see that hundreds of men lined the battlements, armed with bows, arrows, spears, and catapults.
Blackwood gaped. "How did they know?" he demanded.
"Well, it's not like they can't see us coming," Clark pointed out.
"Think you they can prepare themselves that quickly?" Blackwood's eyes flashed with an almost maniacal glow. "Someone must've told them!"
"You did threaten to attack," Clark reminded him. "It stands to reason they'd be ready for you."
Blackwood seethed for a moment, gripping the reins so tightly his knuckles turned white. "Well, it doesn't matter anyway," he finally said. "Our forces are superior to theirs. We'll make short work of them."
Clark did not reply. In the days he'd been at Blackwood, he had accomplished neither of his goals. Blackwood was frustratingly close-mouthed about strategy, which didn't surprise him since he knew the man didn't fully trust him. Furthermore, despite his searches Clark still hadn't located the breviary. Blackwood must've kept it on his person constantly. Clark hadn't even found out who the spy was. Talk about his mission being a dismal failure.
To top it off, he was forced to march into battle against the woman he loved.
Dear God, don't let anything happen to her, he prayed. There had to be some way he could help her. If it meant sacrificing his own life, so be it.
He would protect her until his very last breath.
So it began.
Lana and Gillian stood on the battlements, gripping each other's hands as a hail of arrows flew at the outer wall. Langdon's men swiftly retaliated. The captain of the guard marched along the rampart, barking orders. "First rank, fire! Second rank, fire! First, reload. Third rank, fire! Second, reload. First rank, fire!"
The constant barrage of arrows took its toll as several of Blackwood's men fell. But they recovered quickly, sending a volley of arrows flying up at the ramparts and felling several of Langdon's men.
Lana was beginning to feel sick. And this was only the beginning.
God, where is Clark? she thought frantically, scanning the enemy ranks. She finally located Blackwood, standing well behind the front lines, with a tall, dark knight at his side. Clark.
"Fire the catapults!" a male voice shouted. Moments later, several boulders bombarded the enemy ranks, sending men scattering. Langdon's men cheered as one boulder took down an enemy catapult.
But Blackwood had more tricks up his sleeve. His men were so numerous, his losses thus far were not crippling. Lana watched in horror as his front rank was illuminated with the glow of a thousand flaming arrows. A moment later, the deadly missiles cascaded like a rain of fire upon the ramparts.
"So he wants to play with fire, eh?" Gillian muttered. "We'll give him some fire!"
Langdon's depleted forces were already preparing their newest weapon. Jars of Greek Fire were loaded into what looked like huge crossbows, which were promptly fired over the wall.
Chaos broke out among the enemy ranks. A catapult ignited in an explosion of flames, throwing the knights manning it several feet. More fires erupted all around. Blackwood's horse whinnied and bucked as flames roared directly in front of it, somewhere in the innermost ranks. Clark had disappeared behind a wall of fire.
Lana gripped Gillian's hand, her knees threatening to give way beneath her. "Clark!" she screamed.
Clark fought to gain control over his mount, whose eyes rolled wildly back in his head as he skittered away from the flames. Jesus Christ, he thought. What the hell are they throwing at us?
"'Tis Greek Fire, my lord!" one of the knights shouted at Blackwood, panicked.
Oh, shit. He'd seen enough medieval movies to know what Greek Fire was. If Langdon had it, they were in for it.
It was then he heard it. He wasn't sure how he managed to, being so far away from the castle and with so much noise around him, but the sound carried as clearly as a bell. Lana screaming his name.
He scanned the battlements, trying to locate her. He eventually made out two figures standing atop one of the inner walls—Lana and Gillian.
"Fire the catapults!" Blackwood bellowed.
Langdon was soon hit hard by a barrage of missiles, one of which took down a section of the parapet. Men screamed and pitched into the moat. The assault discombobulated Langdon's forces long enough to allow the window of opportunity that Blackwood needed. His men wheeled a huge siege tower up to the moat, men standing at its top ready to scale the bridge and leap over the castle wall.
But Langdon's forces would not be vanquished so easily. They launched a volley of flaming arrows at the siege tower, taking down several men. The bridge of the tower caught fire, the remaining men trying frantically to snuff out the flames. But the more they tried, the higher the flames seemed to rise.
"Fire the catapults! Ignite the missiles!" Blackwood screamed.
Within minutes several flaming missiles rained down upon the castle. Sections of the parapet crumbled while interior buildings burst into flame, but Clark could only stare transfixed as a flaming missile smashed directly into one of the towers.
Right behind the wall where Lana and Gillian were standing.
Oh, God, Lana! In that instant, it became crystal-clear to him what he had to do. He spurred his mount into action, racing along the moat toward the siege tower.
"Kendrick! Where are you going?" Blackwood demanded.
Clark didn't answer.
"If you desert me now, you become my enemy!" Blackwood warned.
Clark just raced on. He didn't care anymore. He wouldn't be able to live with himself if Lana or Gillian was harmed because of his ill-fated attempt to play hero.
Upon reaching the siege tower, he dismounted and sprinted for the ladder. He scaled it easily, shoving enemy knights out of his way as he did so. They scattered like rolling pins. The bridge was consumed in flames by now, but it didn't intimidate him. Briefly he wondered if he could make the jump in this cumbersome chain mail, but there was no time to worry about that. Steeling himself, he took a running start through the flames and jumped.
He landed on the parapet, scrambling to his feet in time to see two of Langdon's knights advancing toward him.
He held up his hands. "Don't attack! I'm on your side!"
The knights looked unconvinced. "I don't have time for this," Clark muttered, and proceeded to knock them aside like a couple of rag dolls. Then he raced along the wall, flames roaring behind him and acrid smoke filling his lungs, searching frantically for Lana. She can't be dead, he thought. Please, God, don't let her be dead!
Oh, jeez, what hit me? Lana thought, rubbing her throbbing head. Opening her eyes, she found herself surrounded by a wall of rubble. Then it all came back… the flaming missile flying straight at them… her and Gillian leaping frantically aside… then darkness.
"Gillian!" Lana shouted, and immediately regretted it. Shouting hurt her head. Slowly she dragged herself to a sitting position. She heard the crackle of flames, felt the searing air closing around her like a suffocating blanket. She glanced around, relief flooding her when she spotted a large opening in the rubble. She crawled through gratefully.
The scene that greeted her was like something straight out of the apocalypse. Men raced along the flaming wall, shouting and screaming, while dozens lay dead or wounded. Lana took a step and stumbled. She glanced down realized she'd tripped over a man's arm.
There was no sign of the rest of him.
The bile rose in her stomach as she staggered away, willing her supper to stay down. Through it all, she didn't notice the arrow flying straight toward her.
It wasn't long before Clark made out a small figure limping away from a pile of rubble. "Lana!" he shouted.
She looked up just in time to glimpse an arrow whistling through the air toward her. There was no time to think. Clark raced over to her, shoving her out of the way as the arrow glanced harmlessly off his back. Shocked, dazed, it took a moment before Lana realized what had just happened.
"Clark!" she cried, throwing her arms around him. "I don't know how you got here, but you saved my life… again!"
"Lana, thank God you're OK," he said, wrapping her tightly in his arms. But there wasn't time for a happy reunion. He pulled away quickly, grabbing her hand and whisking her away from the wall.
Lana's face went pale. "Gillian…"
"You can relax, folks, I'm all right." Gillian materialized out of the smoke, limping slightly but otherwise fine. "Clark! What are you doing here, and why am I not surprised?"
"I deserted," Clark said simply. "Come on… we've got to get out of here."
They hastened through the battle-torn castle while fighting and destruction raged all around them. There was no denying it. Langdon would fall. They could only hope to escape with their lives.
"The secret passage," Gillian said, and the three of them raced across the inner bailey.
Meanwhile, another siege tower had successfully been wheeled up to the wall, and Blackwood's forces were flooding across the bridge. Upon reaching the outer bailey, Clark, Lana, and Gillian skidded to a halt at the sight of several enemy knights pouring in from the far end of the castle.
Where the entrance to the secret passage was.
"Oh, God," Clark murmured, his face chalk-white. "So that was the inside information Blackwood meant… his spy found the passage!"
"Shit!" Gillian moaned. "Now what do we do?"
"Front gate," Clark said, and they promptly raced for the drawbridge.
By now, one of Blackwood's men had made his way to the gatehouse and was in the process of lowering the drawbridge. More knights poured in, hacking and slashing mercilessly at any opposition.
There was no option left. Clark drew his sword. "I'll hold them off. You two, run. If we get separated, we'll meet up at Bedford. You know the way, don't you?"
Gillian nodded. "Lana and I are each carrying copies of that map."
"Good. Now go. I'll take care of them."
"And I'll help!" a new voice piped up. Ralph had arrived, bearing a grin and a sword.
"What are you doing here?" Clark demanded.
"My first loyalty is to you," said Ralph seriously. "I'm fighting on your side!"
"No, you're not. You're running across the bridge with Gillian and Lana. Go!"
"I don't think so." This time it was Lana who spoke. "I'm not leaving your side, Clark. I'll not let you die for me!"
"So you're going to die, too?" Clark countered. "Where's the sense in that?"
"Don't try to argue with me, Kent. I'm staying with you and that's final." Resolve burned in Lana's eyes.
"Well, someone better make a decision fast, because they're closing in on us," Gillian jumped in.
Clark could see that he would get nowhere with Lana. Damn. She was brave, but she couldn't hold her own against trained knights. What could he do now?
His eye fell upon a barrel of grayish powder sitting at foot of the steps leading up the rampart. An idea streaked into his mind, which he immediately put into action.
"Ralph, Gillian, go. We'll catch up," he ordered. One look at his expression and Gillian knew better than to argue. She grabbed Ralph and hightailed it toward the bridge.
Once he was sure their backs were turned, Clark used his powers to ignite the barrel of Greek Fire. He pushed Lana aside as the barrel exploded, flames shooting into the air with a boom so deafening Clark felt it down to his very bones. The blast knocked him and Lana several feet, the two of them landing with a bone-shattering jolt on the stone floor of the bailey.
The shouts and agonized screams of men continued long after the smoke cleared and the dust settled. Clark looked up, blinking smoke out of his eyes, to see that Gillian and Ralph had made it across the drawbridge. Meanwhile, Lana lay on the ground next to him, coughing.
"Lana, are you hurt?" he asked right away.
She sat up slowly. "I'll be fine. Come on, let's get out of here!"
He helped her to her feet. Enemy knights were closing in on them from both sides. There was nowhere to go but up. Grabbing Lana's hand, he led her to the stairs leading up to the rampart.
They took them two at a time, Blackwood's men in close pursuit. They made it up to the top and raced headlong across the allure, skidding to a stop as yet more of Blackwood's men leapt onto the wall from a siege tower.
Metal clashed against metal as Clark fought off the first attacker. Meanwhile, one of their pursuers caught up with them and was advancing toward Lana. Her blade flashed through the air as she deflected his blow and attacked, catching his leg at a seam in his mail. Yelping with pain, the knight lunged at her with murder in his eyes. "You'll pay for that, wench!"
She parried and ducked, shrieking as her opponent's blade slashed across her side. Gritting her teeth against the pain, she rose to her feet in time to block one more blow. The force of it knocked her backwards into Clark, who had already dispensed with his opponent. They watched with growing panic as knights closed in on them. They were surrounded!
"What do we do now, Clark?" Lana asked, her courage rapidly deserting her.
"Only one thing we can do," he said grimly. "Jump."
She looked at him in disbelief, but it soon dawned on her that it was the only choice they had. She nodded, allowing him to help her up onto the parapet.
He scrambled up after her. She squeezed her eyes shut, steeling herself as they clasped hands. The enemy knights could only watch dumbfounded as they leapt from the rampart, plunging headlong toward the dark surface of the moat.