A Knight's Persuasion (36 page)

His father’s tone was brusque, yet Edouard was glad of the harshness. It reminded him of what he’d learned from his sire: he must keep firm control of his emotions. In this deadly battle, which his father must win, he couldn’t make one mistake. Not when Juliana’s life was in peril, and the lives of many others.

“Aye, Father.”

Before Edouard could turn to locate Kaine, Veronique clucked her tongue. “How very obedient. Is that how you prefer your sons, Geoffrey? Raised to do your bidding, without question? Like loyal hounds?”

Veronique likened him to a trained dog? Edouard’s hand tightened on his sword to the point of pain. How he longed to run her through!

“Edouard does as I ask,” his sire replied, “because he has been raised with honor and respect. Values that define all that is noble and just.”

“Listen to you,” Veronique sneered. “Rambling like—”

“A lord who is proud of his legacy? Of his respected family? I am.”

“Those values you prize so highly have brought you here, to this grim moment. You have no choice left but to yield to my demands—or be responsible for Juliana’s death.”

“As I told you before, I will never yield to you.”

Veronique smiled. “A shame. Did you know Edouard cares for Juliana? They even lay in each others’ arms.”

“Stop!” Juliana choked.

A muscle leapt in Edouard’s father’s cheek. “Is this true, Edouard?”

Veronique, you malicious bitch!
Hatred for her seethed inside Edouard. After all she had done to him, she’d try and dishonor him and Juliana in front of his father. Veronique knew his sire would be furious if he believed Edouard had forsaken his commitment to Nara.

Yet as Edouard stood aware of the many expectant gazes upon him, he welcomed the conviction in his soul, the emotion that had settled there, he realized, the first time he’d seen Juliana. No longer would he ignore it. He’d be speaking with his sire as soon as this battle was over.

“Father,” he said, his voice strong and determined, “since Juliana and I were forced to share a cold cell, we had no choice but to sleep together for warmth. However, we were never intimate, as Veronique cruelly implied. I never once acted with dishonor.”

“He speaks the truth,” Juliana cried. “I swear it, upon my mother’s grave.”

Edouard’s gaze met hers. “’Tis also true that I care for Juliana.”

Her eyes glistening with tears, she braved a smile.

What he would give to be able to sweep her into his arms now and kiss her, to make her
his
.

“What a shame, Edouard, that you were promised to Juliana’s sister,” Veronique went on, sounding on the verge of laughter. “Denied your true feelings for Juliana, right till your death.”

“Enough,” he growled.

Veronique chuckled, then reached out and smoothed her fingers through Juliana’s hair. As Juliana jerked her head away, her cheek pressing against Tye’s tunic, Veronique murmured, “You must hate your father, Edouard, for not caring to spare her life. A kind of abandonment, is it not? ’Tis a small taste of the anguish Tye has endured all these years.”

Squaring his shoulders, Edouard turned his back on Veronique and Tye. He had to shut her out, to deny her the sordid pleasure of squeezing his emotions until they bled.

He’d promised to obey his sire; he’d do his duty.

As he forced himself to stride away, he sensed Juliana’s gaze upon him. His heart ached. Walking away, after all he’d admitted, and when her expression held such gut-wrenching fear, felt akin to betrayal. Yet if his father insisted the matter was under control, then Edouard must trust ’twas so.

He looked to where he’d last seen Kaine, flanked by his guards. They’d moved a short distance down the wall walk. When Edouard drew near, he realized only one mercenary remained with his sword pointed at Kaine, who stood favoring his hurt leg. The other guard, head lolling, collapsed against a merlon. Shaking out his right fist, Dominic stepped away from him.

Switching his sword to his right hand, Dominic eyed the mercenary beside Kaine. “Now, ’tis your turn.”

Sneering, the man adjusted his grip on his weapon, readying to attack.

Edouard strode to Dominic’s side. “Allow me.” As the mercenary lunged, Edouard swung his blade in a brutal arc. With a clash of metal, his sword met the mercenary’s, whose weapon tilted close to Kaine’s stomach.

“Oy! Careful!” Kaine hobbled backward. “I hoped you were rescuing me.”

Before Veronique’s thug could recover his hold on his weapon, Edouard set the tip of his blade against the man’s neck.

“Drop the sword,” he growled.

Dominic whistled. “Best do as he says. He looks more than ready to slaughter you.”

The mercenary’s eyes narrowed. Then, with a loud
clank
, the sword landed by his boots.

“A wise decision.” Dominic flexed his fingers. “I do apologize for what I must do now.” Drawing his arm back, he slammed his fist into the man’s jaw. The oaf fell to his knees, then to his side on the stones.

“A bit dishonorable, that,” Dominic said with a wry shrug. “We cannot have these louts sneaking up on us, though, while we tend to other matters.” Sympathy crept into his gaze. “Not when we have a fair damsel to rescue.”

A flush warmed Edouard’s face, and he looked at Kaine. “Are you all right?”

“Apart from my leg.” He grimaced. “It hurts like hellfire. I am not certain how much use I will be in the battle.”

“You can guard these mercenaries,” Dominic said, bending down to pick up the fallen sword and handing it to Kaine.

“If they wake,” Edouard added, “wallop them again.”

Kaine grinned. “That, I will be more than pleased to do.”

Edouard glanced back at Juliana, his pulse lurching to see her still trapped against Tye. He’d pulled her closer to the battlement’s edge, nearer to Veronique.

Juliana’s frantic stare locked with Edouard’s, and concern, heightened by anger, blazed within him.
Stay brave, Juliana. We will rescue you. This I vow, upon my very soul
.

“Good luck,” Edouard said to Kaine, before he pivoted on his heel and headed back to his father, aware of Dominic striding close behind.

When Edouard reached his father’s side, he could barely control the rage crackling inside him. Tye had his arm pressed up under Juliana’s bosom, a far too intimate hold for Edouard’s liking. Moreover, Tye stood with a merlon at his back, and far enough away from the battlement’s edge that he couldn’t be hit by the archers below—a sign that Tye had noted Aldwin’s abilities.

“At last, you have rejoined us.” Veronique adjusted her grip on the knife. “We waited for you, before killing her.”

A sigh shivered from Juliana.

Edouard clenched his teeth. “Father?”

“She wanted you to see Juliana perish,” his sire said, “although I assured her that would not happen.”

Edouard barely choked down a shocked roar. Had his father not promised he had this situation under control? Why, then, was Juliana’s life still endangered? Why had his sire not ordered his men-at-arms, standing motionless behind him, to attack Tye and save her?

“Poor Edouard. I see your disappointment.” Veronique sneered. “Your beloved father has failed you.”

“Nay, Veronique. Look below,” Edouard’s sire said. “My men-at-arms are winning the battle.”

She snorted a laugh. “Geoffrey—”

“My loyal knights and men-at-arms were ordered to take control of this keep, level by level. They will. They are loyal to me, because I earned their respect. Your mercenaries do not care about loyalty. They swore allegiance to you only for the coins you paid them.”

“Enough. Tye—”

“They have realized your cause is lost,” Edouard’s sire continued, “and are escaping while they still can.” He waved to the space between the merlons. “See for yourself. The drawbridge is crowded with people fleeing.”

Tye’s expression darkened. “Mother?”

Veronique glared at her son. “Your father lies. How like him, to try and undermine us.”

“Release Juliana,” Edouard’s sire commanded. “There is no advantage to killing her.”

Tye’s gaze narrowed. His fingers tightened on his sword.

“Your lives are all you have
left
,” Edouard’s sire said. His gaze slid for the briefest moment to Dominic, standing at his left side. “If you wish to leave this wall walk alive . . .”

Realization hummed through Edouard. Left. A secret command.

“He is
right
. Do you not agree, Edouard?” Dominic added.

Tye scowled. For the barest moment, his gaze flicked toward the gap in the stones.

“Go!” his lordship roared.

Raising his sword, Edouard lunged for Tye’s right side. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Dominic racing for Tye’s left.

Veronique shrieked and slashed with her dagger, even as Edouard heard brisk footfalls. His sire and the men-at-arms were closing in on her.

Cursing, Tye tried to position his sword, but Dominic shoved his blade’s tip against Tye’s shoulder blade. “Do not be a fool.”

His weapon at the ready, Edouard halted before Tye, near enough to reach out and touch Juliana. The sword Tye still held hovered, a physical barrier separating them. Tears streamed from her eyes. He caught her sweet fragrance, blended with the essence of fear, and his gut twisted. “Let her go,” he said quietly.

Tye glowered. “You will kill me, if I refuse?”

“If I must.”

“Attack me, and she and I will both die.”

“Not necessarily,” Edouard said with a growl.

Juliana’s mouth quivered.

“She means so much to you, Brother?”

“Aye.” The acknowledgment came easily. From his heart.

“Edouard,” she whispered.

Tye’s face contorted. The bastard was beaten, but still he meant to hurt her? Edouard should have expected no less. Tye had been raised by Veronique.

Edouard loosed a furious cry and brought his sword up.

Tye’s arm fell from Juliana’s waist.

She raced to Edouard, her soft warmth pressing against him. He kept a firm grip on his sword, while his other arm wrapped around her.

Through a giddy rush of relief, he caught Dominic’s grunt of pain.

Heard the arcing
swish
of a sword.

Sensed Tye’s attack.

***

Juliana clung to Edouard. Her body shook with terror and exhaustion, but joy sang like a bright melody within her. Tye had let her go; there was some sense of honor in his treacherous soul, after all.

“Juliana,” Edouard gasped.

Then she sensed it: movement, behind her.

She whirled, at the same instant Edouard shoved her away. Tye, his face twisted with bitterness, slashed his sword down toward Edouard’s chest.

Clang. Clang
.

Steel sparked, marking the fury of their blows. Her hand pressed to her throat, Juliana didn’t dare look away. The two brothers struck at each other. Again. And again.

“Bastard!” Edouard snarled.

“Kill me now,” Tye mocked. “Do it.”

They were only five paces from Veronique. She stood at the edge of the wall walk between two merlons, silk gown flapping in the wind, her knife lost. Her fingers were raised like claws against de Lanceau and the men-at-arms who’d trapped her.

“Surrender, Veronique,” de Lanceau shouted.

“Surrender?” She arched her brows. “I would rather
die
than be your prisoner.”

“You have nowhere left to go,” his lordship said. “You cannot defeat us. You cannot run.”

Veronique’s crimson lips parted on raucous laughter.

“
Veronique!
” de Lanceau bellowed. “
Surrender!
If you refuse, I will—”

She spun to look down at the bailey. “Good-bye, Geoffrey.”

“Nay—!” De Lanceau grabbed for her.

She jumped.

“God’s teeth!” Dominic gasped. Juliana raced with him to the side of the battlement, where de Lanceau peered down, shaking his head.

Far down in the bailey, Veronique tried to rise from where she’d fallen onto several dead servants. Grimacing, her movements slow and her left arm listing at an odd angle, she pushed to her knees.

“She cannot get away,” de Lanceau growled and gestured to two of his men-at-arms.

The men ran for the stairwell.

Steel clashed close by, and Juliana again looked at the two brothers, still fighting. Sweat dripped from their faces. Had Edouard suffered any wounds? She hoped not.

“Yield, Tye,” de Lanceau yelled. “The battle is over.” He signaled to Edouard. Reluctance tautened Edouard’s features, but he stepped away from Tye, his chest rising and falling with ragged breaths. He did not, however, lower his sword.

Juliana forced herself to remain still, although she longed to throw herself into Edouard’s arms.

Tye’s gaze sharpened as he looked at Dominic, de Lanceau, and the man-at-arms, then at the empty space where Veronique had stood moments before. “Where—?”

“Your mother leapt over the side,” de Lanceau said. “She abandoned you.”

“
What?
” Edging sideways, his sword ready to deflect any assault, he approached the gap. Bracing his left hand on the merlon beside him, he leaned slightly backward over the edge to glance down; he clearly didn’t want to turn his back to his foes. Juliana sensed the moment he saw Veronique. His lips flattened.

“She is wounded,” de Lanceau said. “She cannot get far. My men will take her prisoner.”

“And?” Tye dared another look at the bailey. The awkward position forced him to strain his body backward. If he lost his balance . . .

“She will be imprisoned in my dungeon. I will see her brought to trial—”

A strangled sound, akin to a curse, broke from Tye. His body wavered, as though buffeted by a breeze, and then his sword pitched downward. Even as Juliana wondered why, she realized he’d lost his grip on the merlon.

“Tye!” she and Dominic called in unison. She ran to the wall walk’s edge, aware of the man-at-arms following close behind.

Tye’s sword clattered on the stone near them.

With a guttural cry, he dropped from view.

“Oh, God,” Juliana cried, peering over the edge. Muttering under his breath, de Lanceau elbowed aside the man-at-arms and stood in the windblown gap.