Chapter Twenty-Three
Clark, Gillian, and Ralph did not have time to panic. Instead, they did the only thing they could--drew their swords and jumped into the fray.
The resounding clash of metal filled the room as the fight ensued. Gillian ducked, leaped, and parried with a fearlessness of one who had nothing to lose. Ralph fared admirably well, fending off attacks by men who were far larger and better-trained.
"Stand back-to-back," Gillian shouted, deflecting a blow and ducking another. She and Ralph backed up against each other, forming a two-pronged defense against their attackers.
Meanwhile, Clark's blade flashed through the air like silver lightning as he quickly and efficiently dispensed with the first knight to attack him, which wasn't very hard considering he was using his powers. In the melee, he figured nobody would pay very close attention. It wasn't long until he got to Hugh. "Where is the lady?" he demanded.
Hugh could only stare, having witnessed the man toss aside trained knights as though they weighed as much a feather. "If you're a warlock, why don't you use your powers—aaaacck!"
Hugh gasped for breath as a large hand shot out and grasped his neck, pulling him up until his feet lifted off the floor. "Last time, Hugh… where is she?"
"Go ahead and kill me," he rasped. "You'll never know."
Clark had neither the time nor patience for this. He tossed Hugh against the wall, striding over as the man slumped wheezing to the ground. "I'm going to ask you one more time. Where is Blackwood keeping Lianne?"
Hugh was doubled over, coughing and sputtering. "Tower chamber," he finally gasped. "But you'll never get her… Blackwood's too smart for that."
"We'll see about that," Clark muttered. "Where is he?"
"I don't know… I'm not his keeper."
"Blood of Christ, you're useless." Clark dealt him a sharp smack--not enough to really harm him, just enough to knock some sense into him. "Maybe this'll jog your memory."
"I last saw him at the chapel," Hugh said, rubbing his head. "He was discussing his imminent nuptials with the priest."
Clark swore under his breath. But on the bright side, at least that meant Blackwood hadn't wed Lana yet. "I'll kill him," he vowed.
"Not if you're already dead." With split-second quickness the knight lunged at him, brandishing a dagger. The impact was enough to make Clark stagger backward, but the weapon glanced harmlessly of his ribs, the blade shattering as it did so.
Hugh could only stare in befuddlement at the broken hilt in his hand. "Dear God… you're inhuman!"
"Didn't I warn you not to screw with a warlock?" Clark promptly dispensed with the man via a quick and efficient blow to the head.
It soon came to his attention that Ralph and Gillian had their hands full, fighting off multiple attackers. He was about to come to their aid when Gillian shook her head. "Get Blackwood! We can handle this."
"Are you sure?"
Gillian nodded. "Go! Lana will never be safe as long as he's around!"
Lana. Still, he couldn't just leave Gillian and Ralph. If anything happened to them…
"Clark, she needs you. Get your arse out of here and kick his!" Gillian shouted, ducking as a blade whistled inches above her head. "I swear to God if you don't go, as soon as we get home I'm kicking your arse!"
He could see there was no talking Gillian out of it. With a final concerned glance over his shoulder, he took off.
Blackwood was about to get what was coming to him.
Gillian and Ralph were beginning to tire. Clark had somehow managed to fend off all but two knights, but their training and physical strength proved too much for the college student and squire. Gillian winced as a blade slashed across her leg, opening a long shallow wound. "Goddamn!" she cursed, pain lancing through her injured leg as she stepped back on it. With renewed vigor she struck out, rewarded by the outcry of pain as steel struck flesh.
"You're paying for those hose, you medieval wanker," she snarled, lunging and attacking in a frenzy prompted by pure desperation. If she and Ralph got out of this alive, it would be a miracle.
Gillian heard a crash as Ralph fell into Blackwood's desk. With an outcry of rage she lunged, her blade cutting deeply into her opponent's thigh. She seized the distraction long enough to strike again, the sword sliding cleanly between his ribs in a blow that proved to be lethal.
Gillian yanked out the bloody blade, feeling vaguely nauseous. God, what kind of life is this, killing just to stay alive? As fascinated as she was with medieval times, she wasn't sure how much more of this crazy life-and-death roulette she could take.
She whirled around to glimpse Ralph, disarmed by his opponent and backed against the desk, knobby knees knocking in terror as his attacker raised his sword. Gillian grabbed the crossbow Clark had given her and fired, the arrow finding its mark in the knight's back.
Ralph shot her a grateful look, but barely a second later his blue eyes widened into perfectly round spheres. "My lady, look out!"
Gillian spun around, raising her blade instinctively. But before her assailant could strike he crumpled in a heap at her feet, a blade protruding from his back. Gillian looked up to see the last person she expected to see, standing there with a chalk-white face and trembling hands.
"Lianne!" Gillian cried. "What… how?"
"No time to explain," Lana said hastily. "What about you? What are you doing here?"
"Rescuing you, duh," Gillian said. "Clark's gone after Blackwood. We have to help him!"
"Clark." Lana's eyes grew bright. "He's alive?"
"Yeah… don't ask me how he survived getting stabbed in the gut like that, but he's fine. You sure he's not a warlock?"
"If he is, then I'm glad," Lana said, still reeling from the revelation. "My God, I thought he was dead!"
"Yeah, well, he might be if we don't hurry up and get there!"
Lana hastened after Gillian, with Ralph in tow. "Are you sure you're all right?" she asked with concern, glancing down at Gillian's bleeding leg.
"I'll be fine," Gillian said tersely. "How about you?" For the first time she noticed Lana's split lip. "My God… did Blackwood…"
"He slapped me around a little, but he didn't force himself on me, if that's what you mean."
"Thank God." Gillian looked relieved.
The three of them continued their race through the keep, en route to the chapel. But they never made it that far.
"Let us drink," the woman said, smiling up at the man before her while holding a jewel-encrusted goblet. "On the morrow, when you wed Lianne, all that we wanted will be ours."
"Aye, it will." He smiled back, raising his own goblet. Foolish wench.
"Fortune shall be mine… no more days as a servant." She gave a girlish giggle, the wine imbuing her pasty face with a reddish tinge. "Surely she won't mind… sharing you occasionally."
"You know I couldn't give you up, Eleanor." He smiled down at her, both amused and disgusted by the look of adoration on her face. Ah, but she was so gullible, so naïve.
He'd gotten all he needed from her. Alas, there wasn't much point in keeping her in the game any longer.
"The wine is excellent, my lord," she commented, raising her goblet yet again.
"'Tis the finest in the larder, brought back from France."
"Ah, the only good thing to come out of France is the wine," she cracked, giggling again.
"I wouldn't say that, my pet… you do remember the deal I struck with their fine king."
"Ah, yes… once we have Henry's lands, power and wealth beyond anything we've dreamed shall be ours. All that stands between it and you is a simple wedding ceremony."
"I think not," a new voice spoke up from the doorway.
Blackwood froze. No… it couldn't be! And yet it was. Standing in the door like an apparition from a nightmare was Kendrick de Montclair, deadly intent burning in his green eyes. "I swore I'd kill you, Blackwood… and I intend to make good on that promise."
"Good God," Blackwood gasped. "How are you not dead?"
"Guess I have nine lives." A humorless grin stretched across his chiseled features. "Shall we finish this?"
Blackwood recovered quickly from his shock. Steel whistled through the air as he drew his blade. "With pleasure."
The two men faced off, staring each other down with the gritty resolve of two who knew that this was going to be the last time. Only one of them would walk away this day.
Silver flashed. Blades clashed. And so it began.
Gillian, Lana, and Ralph skidded to a stop in the doorway of the Great Hall. Lana wasn't sure how she knew it, but Clark was there. She sensed his presence even before she heard his voice, felt him even though she couldn't see him.
She rushed heedlessly into the hall with Gillian and Ralph quick on her heels. Lana watched with her heart in her throat as Clark and Blackwood battled furiously, leaping and striking while blades whizzed through the air in a silvery blur, the whistle of steel interspersed with the clash of metal against metal. Clark seemed to sense her presence as well; although he gave no indication, she felt something shift in the air, and he began to fight with a fury that surpassed even the duel. But Blackwood met every blow, attacking with skill and finesse, his superior training showing through with every move.
Clark was slowly being driven backward. Damn him for not using his powers. Screw chivalry, Lana thought. Just kick his ass already!
Blackwood and Clark's blades met and locked with a resounding clash. As the two men glared at each other, locked in a temporary stalemate, a flicker of movement out of the corner of her eye caught Lana's attention. To her horror, she sighted Lianne's servant, Eleanor, lurking in the shadows, raising a crossbow.
One that was loaded with a brilliantly green-tipped arrow.
"Clark, look out!" Lana shrieked.
He whirled around just as Eleanor fired. Clark must've used his super speed, because the arrow never found its mark. A split-second later found him standing over Blackwood, the latter's sword in his hand, while the arrow embedded itself harmlessly into the wall. Eleanor bolted. Gillian fired at her with her crossbow, but missed. "Blast!" she cursed. "I'm going after her."
She took off, with Ralph behind her.
Meanwhile, Clark and Blackwood continued their standoff. "I can't even trust you for a fair match, can I?" Clark said contemptuously. Backing away, he glared at Blackwood. "Let's do this right. You and me. For the lady." With that, he tossed Blackwood his sword.
The second man looked on in amazement, then his expression hardened to a steely frown. "You should've killed me while you had the chance, de Montclair."
"Then I would be no better than you."
With an animalistic snarl Blackwood launched himself at his opponent. Clark parried, countering his attack with one of his own. The battle raged on, moving across the Great Hall, over tables and chairs, gradually edging closer to where Lana stood. Blackwood had lost his edge, fury and desire for vengeance eclipsing the cool collected demeanor he was usually known for. Instead, he was impulsive and brash, going by instinct rather than logic. Clark, on the other hand, was growing more and more confident as he realized his advantage. Blackwood was fighting a losing battle and he knew it, so he played the only card he had left.
A shriek rent the air as he grabbed Lana, hauling her to him and pressing his blade to her throat. "One move and your lady love gets it."
Clark froze. "You'll not kill her. You need her too much."
"Why shouldn't I?" A malevolent smile spread across Blackwood's face. "I've taken over her father's castle. With the wench gone, there's no male heir to pass it on to. I'm going to break you, de Montclair. The problem is, I've been going about it all wrong. Your weakness isn't those green rocks. It's her." Blackwood pressed the blade harder, eliciting a gasp of pain from Lana. "'Tis pathetic, the way humans are but a slave to their hearts."
"Perhaps," said Clark coldly, "but I am not human."
Lana swallowed, her throat bobbing painfully against the perilous blade. As Clark and Blackwood exchanged words, her hand slowly inched closer to Blackwood's belt. Her fingers grazed steel and she knew she'd found what she was looking for.
"Which, in this case, proves to be my advantage," said Blackwood triumphantly.
Too late Clark noticed that Blackwood had backup. Three people burst into the Great Hall, two of them knights, the third the traitorous Eleanor. The knights had seized Ralph and Gillian, and held the struggling squire and lady fast. Meanwhile, Eleanor whipped something out from under her belt, an amulet with Blackwood's heraldry carved into it.
A translucent green amulet.
Clark instantly doubled over. Blackwood lowered his blade. "'Tis a shame I'll never have you, my lady," he said regretfully to Lana. "But alas, perhaps I can have a taste before I send you to join your lover."
He grabbed her and hauled her against him, pressing his clammy lips to hers in what was more of a violation than a kiss. Lana shuddered with revulsion, but seized the opportunity to grab the hilt of his dagger. In a smooth, quick movement, she yanked it from his belt and drove it into his thigh before he had a chance to react.
Blackwood gave a sharp cry of pain, releasing her as he gazed in horror at the red spot spreading across his hose. "Wretched wench!" he raged. "Just for that, I shall kill you even slower!"
"Never!" Lana vowed. She lunged at him with the dagger, but was stopped when a small figure flew at her and knocked her down. Lana and Eleanor hit the floor together, the former struggling against a deceptively strong opponent. Still gripping the dagger, Lana slashed at the other woman's arm, hoping to make her drop the amulet. Eleanor squealed as the blade sliced flesh. The bloody amulet clattered to the ground just as Lana managed to wrench herself free from Eleanor's grasp. She evaded the other woman long enough to kick the amulet aside, but Eleanor grabbed her before she could escape. With a catlike snarl the servant flew at her opponent, grabbing Lana's wrist in an attempt to wrest the dagger from her.
Fortunately, the amulet was far enough away now that Clark was able to recover. He leapt to his feet and lunged at Blackwood, striking out furiously. The blade found its mark between Blackwood's ribs, the latter gazing on with a look of abject horror that would be permanently etched across his face. He staggered backward, collapsing against the wall, opening his mouth to speak but uttering nothing but a strangled gurgle.
"I'll see you in hell, Blackwood," Clark said, before turning and racing to Lana's aid.
She was still struggling with Eleanor. The servant had grabbed Lana's wrists, trying to force the blade around to point at the latter's throat. Lana found her last surge of strength and shoved the blade away from her. The force of the blow caught Eleanor off-guard, the blade sinking deeply into the servant's stomach before either woman realized what was happening.
Lana lay on the floor, unable to do anything but stare in horror in the seconds that followed. Then someone pushed the dying woman aside, pulled Lana to her feet. She looked down at the strong, familiar hands and then up into the beautiful eyes she was sure she would never see again save for in her dreams.
And if this was a dream, she never wanted to wake up.
She had but a moment to recover before Clark rushed to Ralph and Gillian's aid, although the latter two were doing quite well on their own. In the pandemonium, the lady and squire had seized the opportunity to fight back, and were giving their captors a run for their money. With Clark's help, the two quickly overcame the hapless men.
"Sir, you truly are a hero," Ralph said with admiration, but Clark's attention was solely on Lana.
She stood several yards away, eyes bright and hands trembling from the utter joy of seeing him again. Then she was racing to him, throwing her arms about his neck while he pulled her close. She pressed herself against him, as if to convince herself that he was really here and not just a dream.
"I thought you were dead," she murmured, tears clouding her vision as she looked up at him.
"Didn't I tell you I'd always come for you?" was his husky reply. Her response was to lift her face as his mouth descended upon hers, capturing her lips in a deep, stirring kiss that was both stingingly sweet and heatedly passionate at the same time. Her hands gripped his shoulders as her knees suddenly buckled beneath her, but his strong arms held her upright. She never wanted the kiss to end, the feeling of utter bliss, safety, and completion in his arms.
"All right, all right, you two… get a room, huh?" Gillian interrupted, but she was smiling.
Clark and Lana pulled apart, mildly embarrassed. It was so easy to forget anyone and anything else existed when she was in his arms.
At that moment, Lana was startled by the sound of a new voice, a familiar one. "It has been done," Isolde said. "Your duty has been fulfilled. On the morrow, you will return to your home."
Lana glanced around, but saw no one in the hall save for Clark, Gillian, and Ralph. "Did you guys hear that?"
"Hear what?" asked Gillian.
"Isolde… she said our duty as been fulfilled."
Gillian looked blank. "I didn't hear a thing."
"What duty?" Ralph asked. "And who's Isolde?"
Still rattled, Lana shook her head. "Never mind. I'm just glad this is all over."
"I'll say," Gillian agreed. "So what do you say we get out of here? This place is phenomenally depressing."
"I'm with you on that one," Clark agreed. Grasping Lana's hand, he flashed her a smile that made her tingle down to the tips of her toes. Then he led her out of the hall behind Ralph and Gillian.
Their journey had finally come to an end.