Fragments of Grace (Prequel to the Dragonblade Trilogy) (51 page)

The iron grate was twising nicely as several
Aysgarth men retreived big pieces of wood from the crumbed gate and began using
them as a fulcrum to further twist the iron.  Keir charged right up to the
front of the battle lines, using his broadsword to hack at those on the
opposite side of the portcullis who were trying to prevent Aysgarth soldiers
from breaking through.   He was moving much like an energized man and not one
who had been beaten and bruised.  He moved like Keir St. Hèver had always moved;
with power, skill and courage.

In fact, Keir was up against the portcullis
defending those who were trying to pry open the iron.  Kurtis was behind him,
assisting but also supervising the men who had put the ropes aside and were now
trying to dislocate the portcullis off its track so they could slip into the
breach.  Michael had joined them from his post supervising the wall, mostly
because he was bored and wanted in on the action. When he saw Keir over next to
the portcullis hacking off hands or fingers that came to close to his blade, he
made way over to the man and happily hacked away with him.

Keir and Michael were fighting like old, as they had
fought a hundred times before. Keir turned to say something to Michael over the
sounds of the chaos but noticed that Michael was looking off into the bailey of
Ripley, made clear through the open grates.  Keir couldn’t see much because of
all the men in his way, but Michael could see over their heads because of his
height, and what he saw distressed him greatly.  He was about to say something
to Keir when a woman’s scream pierced the air.

Keir heard the scream. He didn’t have to be told who
had emitted them because he seemed to know. He could feel it, down to his very
bones. The expression on Michael’s face only confirmed it. More screams came
and Keir began pulling at the portcullis like a madman, bellowing at his
soldiers to clear a path for him to enter.  The soldiers with the fulcrum
yanked and pulled and twisted, heeding the man’s bellows, watching as Keir
tried to shove himself through a narrowed entry point and nearly get his head
cut off in the process. Ingilby’s men weren’t so inclined to let the man in.

But Michael was there, using his long arms to find
off the enemy through the open grates of the portcullis and, eventually, Keir
was able to get through with Kurtis right behind him.  Michael threw his great
strength into widening the breach and, eventually, it widened enough to let two
men pass through at a time. Soon, Aysgarth men were pouring into the bailey,
killing anything that moved.

Keir and Kurtis were running for the keep.

***

Chloë was in a world of panic as Ingilby tried to
drag her across the hall and towards the stairs that led up into the keep.  She
smacked at his hands, dug her feet in, and eventually threw herself on the
ground so he could not easily force her to do his bidding.  Ingilby was a
reasonably big man, certainly bigger and stronger than Chloë was, and he used
that strength to his advantage.  The more she resisted, the harsher he became.

Chloë’s back was paining her tremendously as she
tried to fight him off.  She could only surmise he was intending to take her to
a bed chamber somewhere and rape her, so she fought with all her might, having
no idea what she would do once she broke free. There was really no where to go
in a fortress under siege, but she would not make the conquest easy for him. 
As far as she was concerned, they had no bargain because she had no guarantee
that Keir had been released, alive. Until that factor could be proved, she
would resist Ingilby with everything she possessed.

At one point, they passed closed to the banqueting
table and she grabbed hold with one hand, then with both hands when Ingilby let
her go as he tried to break her hold on the table.  The big, heavy table
groaned as Ingilby pulled and Chloë held tight, grinding across the stone floor
as Ingilby dragged both the table and Chloë along. But eventually, he grew
weary of the ridiculousness and smacked her hands, causing her to gasp in pain
and release the table.  Then, he had her. But not for long.

Chloë threw herself on to the floor and kicked him
squarely in the face as he reached down for her.  Then she scrambled underneath
the table as he swiped at her.  She crawled on hands and knees, dodging
Ingilby’s hands, until he manage to get hold of the ends of her long hair.  As
she screamed, he pulled on her hair, dragging her out from underneath the
table.  She ended up on her back with a bench half-over her, and he let go of
her hair. Slipping his hands underneath her arms, he pulled her up to her feet.

“Enough foolishness,” he snapped, throwing both arms
around her body and nearly carrying her towards the stairs. “I have had all I
can take of you, Chloë de Geld. I have pursued you for two long years and it is
finally time for me to reap my reward.”

Chloë was kicking and twisting, trying to release
his hold on her. “I do not belong to you yet,” she snarled. “We had a bargain
and unless you can provide me with proof that Keir is alive and free, I shall
not make this easy for you. Not one bit!”

With that, she chomped down on the hand that was
gripping her forearm and Ingilby howled. It was enough of a lapse to force him
to release her at least partially, and as Chloë tumbled to the ground near the
round room that led to the stairs, the front door of the keep slammed back on
its hinges and men began pouring in. Ingilby was reaching down for Chloë when a
dirk sailed past his chin, nicking him before crashing into the stone wall
beyond. 

Startled, Ingilby turned towards the source of the
flying dirk. Torn between reclaiming his weapon or reclaiming his captive, he
opted for the woman. Surely men with swords would think twice before striking
him if he held her in a compromising position. It was a confident decision that
was about to cost him.

Keir and Kurtis were rushing towards him,
broadswords at the ready. Chloë, scrambling to get away from Ingilby, looked up
to see her husband in full battle armor running at her. Struck with shock and
relief at a sight she never truly thought she would ever see again, she
screamed.

“Keir!”

Keir was almost on top of her, straining against
wounds and injury to save her from Ingilby, who was closer to his wife than he
was. As he feared, Ingilby grabbed hold of Chloë’s foot and yanked her towards
him just as Keir reached her. Throwing his arms around his wife’s upper torso,
he yanked hard and prayed he didn’t break any bones in the process.  Chloë
yelped at the shock of the jolt but it was enough for her boot to slip free.
Keir pulled her right out of her shoe, leaving Ingilby only holding her boot as
Kurtis descended on the man and shoved a broadsword into his gut.

Ingilby let out a blood-curdling scream as he sank
to the stone, his hands over the wound that was pouring blood down his leg and
on to the floor. Without any sympathy whatsoever, Kurtis kicked him over on to
his back and gored him again.

“That,” he snarled, “is for abducting my brother,
you worthless bastard. I hope your death pains you all the way to hell.”

Wrapped up in Keir’s arms, Chloë was gasping hysterically.
Her fear, her surprise, was overwhelming her and she was close to
hyperventilating.  She couldn’t feel much of Keir other than his armor and the
bulk of his body, but when he started kissing her face furiously, the fear
began to fade and the elation took hold.  Hysterical gasping turned into pants
of joy.

“Are you well, sweetheart?” Keir’s voice was
trembling as he stopped kissing her long enough to try and get a look at her
left arm. “Is your wrist doing well? Did someone tend it?”

Chloë’s happyl gasps began to turn teary as she
touched Keir’s face, feeling his warmth, seeing for herself that he was indeed
alive and well.  There was such jubiliation in her heart that she could
scarcely describe it.

“I am well,” she insisted, more concerned for him
than she was for herself. “Are you well? They said that they tied a horse to
you and pulled you out….”

He cut her off with a trembling, brutal kiss.  “Not
to worry,” he whispered, bumping her with the raised visor of his helm as he
kissed her again. “I am well, Chloë. I am perfectly well. All that matters is
you and how you are feeling. I was terrified that I would be too late for… for
whatever Ingilby was planning. Was I too late, sweet?”

There was such happiness and relief enveloping them,
like a warm fog that bound them, flowed through them, and eased them. It was
comfort on an immeasurable level, relief now that the madness was finally over.
Chloë had her arms tightly around his armored neck as if to never let him go.

“He never touched me,” she assured him softly. “But I
believe that was what he was planning when you and Kurtis came to my rescue. Thank
God you came when you did.”

As if suddenly remembering Kurtis, they turned to
look at the man as he stood a few feet away over Ingilby’s supine form. Chloë
looked at the man on the floor for a couple of seconds before looking away; she
didn’t want to see anymore. It was a gruesome sight. Keir, however, lingered on
the body a few moments before addressing his brother.

“Is he dead?” he asked.

Kurtis was looking down at Ingilby as he spoke. “He
is,” he said, turning to look at his brother and Chloë. “For the fact that he
abducted you and for the fact that he can no longer be a threat to your wife, I
am happy to end his life.  The last time, when there was a threat to Madeleine,
I could do nothing for you, Keir. That has haunted me in ways you cannot
imagine. But this time… to protect my younger brother in every way that I can,
I am happy to do this. While I had breath in my body, you were not going to
lose Chloë as you did Maddie. I told you I would never see you go through that
hell again and I meant it.”

Keir could see the anguish in Kurtis’ eyes. “You
never told me how you felt,” he said softly.

Kurtis turned away from Ingilby, moving to where
Keir and Chloë were all wrapped up in each other. His gaze lingered on the
pair, so deeply happy and so deeply in love. “Did I have to?” he murmured. “We
are brothers. Your pain is my pain.”

“I can never thank you enough.”

“You would have done the same for me.”

Leaning over, Kurtis kissed Chloë on the cheek and
made his way out of the great hall, which was now secured by Aysgarth troops.  Chloë
watched the man go with tears in her eyes.

“It was not just for you,” she whispered. “What he
did… he saved me, too.”

Keir watched her pale face as she spoke, still
coming to grips with the fact that she was in his arms, safe and whole, and
their nightmare was over.  He could hardly believe it. Carefully, he lifted her
into his arms and began to carry her out of the keep.

“My brother has always been dear to me,” he said
quietly. “Perhaps today… he is just a little more dear.”

Chloë held him tightly around the neck, her head
coming to rest on his shoulder. “Can we go home now?”

“Of course, sweetheart.”

“I mean to Pendragon.”

“So did I.”

As the siege of Ripley wound down and men began to
pick up the pieces, Keir took his wife outside into the deepening evening.

CHAPTER THIRTY
ONE

Two weeks later

Pendragon Castle

“He seems to want to participate, but I am not sure
he knows how,” Keir was standing with Michael in the bailey of Pendragon as
dusky shades of sunset loomed over head. “I have given him chores, which he
accomplishes easily, but he still seems very fearful of us.”

Michael lifted his eyebrows at Aust as he emerged from
the stables with a heavy bucket in one hand. “Summer seems to think it will
take a good deal of time for him to become comfortable with us,” he said.
“Ingilby and his men beat the boy badly. He trusts no one.”

Keir watched the lad lug the water bucket to a horse
that was tethered outside of the stable. “I have spent so much time looking at
that little face,” he muttered. “I can say for certain that he is not Merritt,
but then there are days when I look at him and he seems familiar.  I am only
being wishful, I am sure. What do you think?”

Michael was somewhat hesitant. “Like you, sometimes
I think I see something familiar,” he replied. “What does Chloë say?”

“Since the boy cannot remember who or where he comes
from, that we must keep him and raise him as our own.”

Michael grunted. “She has a point.”

“But somewhere, this child’s parents are missing
him. I should be doing everything in my power to return him home but I do not
even know where to start.  He cannot tell us where he comes from. I could be
searching for years.”

Michael sighed faintly. “A dilemma, to be certain,”
he agreed. “What did Kurtis say before he left?”

“The same thing Chloë said.”

“Then perhaps the boy has found a new family.”

As Michael and Keir debated the fate of the young
lad, inside the keep, Chloë and Summer were up in the master’s bower of
Pendragon going through the last of Madeleine’s possessions.