Lord of the Blade (30 page)

"'Tis Corbett," he shouted. Then, turning
towards Leighton, he drew his sword. "I warned you that if this
were a trick, you would be the first to die."

"Lord Boltoff!" the cry came from a guard on the
south side of the cliff. "Corbett has already managed to slay two
men."

Devon released a sigh of relief, knowing Corbett was
still alive.

"Well get him, you fools. Are you that
incompetent that one man can manage to fight off four?" Turning to
Thorpe, he said, “kill the boy. I have to show my men how to
fight."

"But he is only a boy."

"Do it!”

A cry went up from the north end, and
another struggle from atop the cave caught his eye. "Damn! There
must be three of them." Then Boltoff disappeared.

Thorpe drew his sword and raised it toward
the boy. Leighton stood motionless. If Devon didn't help, his life
would be over. Rushing from the shadows, Devon picked up the end of
a burning log from the fire and waved it at Thorpe.

"Get out of here," screamed Thorpe, "before
you force me to take your life too."

"Go," Devon commanded Leighton and
courageously stepped forward to protect him. The boy didn't move.
"Go!" she shouted louder, and as if brought from a trance, he
hurriedly scurried into the shadows.

Devon waved the burning log close to
Thorpe's face. A spark jumped from it and his hair caught on fire.
Wildly, he thrashed around patting his hair trying to put out the
flames. Devon backed away as he screamed in agony, horrified that
her attempt to save Leighton had turned into a harrowing scene.

Anger raged in Thorpe's eyes. He raised his
sword and dashed towards her. She dropped the log in fear, unable
to move as he closed the distance between them. Her eyes fixed on
the wielding sword, and she was sure this would be her death. But
then a figure burst through the shadows and brought Thorpe to the
ground.

"Malcomn!" The men tumbled over and over, as
Malcomn was unarmed and Thorpe had dropped his sword from Malcomn's
surprise attack. Another cry went up from the south side of the
cliff and Devon was praying that it was a guard, and not Corbett
who had just been killed.

She watched helplessly as Thorpe beat upon
the wounded man. Malcomn’s chivalrous bravery proved he'd earned
the honor of being called a knight. From this day on, she'd see
Malcomn in a new light.

"This is all your fault." Devon turned
toward the voice, and saw Gilda with a mace held high in her hands.
“You’ve ruined everything,” she continued. “I cannot allow that, my
little servant girl."

Devon backed up slowly to move further from
Gilda. Glancing over her shoulder, she realized she was being
steered toward the edge of the cliff. The sun was now below the
horizon and the only natural light was the dim glow of an orange
sky.

Devon stumbled over a root sticking up
behind her and fell to the ground. Gilda brought the mace
closer.

"You will never get away with this,” said
Devon," edging toward more stable ground. "When they find out that
you have murdered the baron's true heir, you will be killed."

"I don't care anymore about my life," the
baroness said. "I am only protecting the life of my son."

"Well, then protect him from Thorpe," she
warned, pointing a finger toward them. Gilda’s eyes opened wide.
"Thorpe. Leave him alone. What is the matter with you?" But Thorpe
continued to fight.

Gilda screamed as Thorpe gave Malcomn a
final punch that sent him sprawling on the ground, unconscious.
Retrieving his sword, the burly man quickly raised it above
Malcomn, preparing for the killing blow.

"No!" screamed both Devon and Gilda in
unison.

Instead, Thorpe stiffened, and his eyes
bulged as he dropped to his knees. Corbett's new squire, Leighton,
stood transfixed behind him, his bloody dagger still clutched in
his hand.

Devon quickly took advantage of this
distraction, and charged Gilda sending her stumbling backwards to
the ground. But Gilda retrieved the mace and headed for Devon once
again. As Devon backed away from the swinging mace, loose stones
beneath her feet tumbled down the side of the cliff. She quickly
glanced to the ground and realized she was standing dangerously
close to the edge of a steep drop.

"There is nowhere to run now, my dear,” said
the baroness with a look of sheer satisfaction on her face. “And
after feeling the crush of your skull beneath the weight of my
weapon, you will soar like a falcon to the bottom of the
cliff."

A screeching sound pierced the near
darkness, and as if sent from Heaven, Corbett's raven swooped in an
attacking nature around Gilda's head. She swung wildly, trying to
hit the bird which had already ripped off her head covering and now
clawed at her two-toned hair. The heavy weight of the mace set her
off balance and she teetered at the edge of the cliff.

Dropping the mace over the edge, Gilda
rocked back and forth unable to regain her balance, and grabbed out
for Devon’s skirt to right herself.

Devon screamed in terror, knowing that the
woman would pull them both to their deaths. Frantically, she dug
her heels into the dirt and tried to pull back.

Corbett heard the scream, and saw Gilda
trying to kill Devon, as he battled with Boltoff, the last of the
live men from the south end of the cliff. He desperately thrust his
sword, trying to defeat the man, to run to Devon's aid.

"Forget it, Corbett," sneered Boltoff.
"Before you can help her, she will be dead."

Anger welled inside Corbett's chest. Just
the thought of losing Devon brought a new strength of energy into
the man's aching limbs.

"No!" Corbett yelled, as she slowly slipped
over the edge of the cliff. He stabbed at Boltoff like a man
possessed until his challenger finally fell, then ran to Devon. Her
eyes were wide with fright as her body slowly disappeared over the
edge of the cliff, reaching out to Corbett for help. The velvet
blackness of the night swallowed her as he caught once last glance
of her terrified face before she disappeared over the edge.

His nightmare relived, her bloodcurdling
scream echoed in his ears as he dove and grabbed only at air. His
hands fell against the scratched dirt - all that was left to remind
him she had been there at all.

"Devon, no!"

His scream split the eerie stillness and his
hands grabbed sand and dirt instead of his precious lover. He heard
rocks tumbling over the edge and the unmistakable sound of a broken
body thudding against the rocks and crashing into the ocean far
below. Total darkness settled in around him, clinging to his being
like death itself. The raven landed nearby as Corbett lie
motionless face down in the dirt, not wanting to believe she was
really gone from his life forever.

Chapter 24

"Cor…bett, help…
me."

The weak, small voice sounded like Devon's.
A chill went up Corbett's spine, hoping he wasn't hearing her voice
from the grave. His raven landed next to him and squawked
scoldingly. Corbett raised his head slowly and listened hard. Then
he heard it again.

"Corbett, please . . ."

She was alive. His heart beat with pure
elation. Like a dog with paws slipping over a wet surface, he
frantically groveled his way to the edge of the cliff and peered
over. Searching the darkness of the void, he found the dark outline
of Devon's body as she gripped tightly to a protruding root. One
foot teetered on an almost nonexistent rocky ledge. Reaching his
hand towards her, his fingertips brushed the ends of hers.

"I can't reach you." Though he stretched as
far as he could, she was still a grip away. "Reach up and take my
hand, Devon. 'Tis the only way."

She looked down the jagged cliffs instead.
She was looking for Gilda - the body he’d heard falling to the
bottom of the cliff. Her knuckles were white from gripping the root
so tightly and he knew she would never let loose to reach toward
him.

"I…can't." Her voice came out as a slight
squeak.

"You have to!" shouted Corbett, seeming to
only frighten Devon by the tone of his voice. "Devon." He made sure
his voice was calm, and much softer this time. "I promise I will
grab you, if you will only reach up for my hand."

Still, nothing.

"You can do it. Just give me your hand and
we can go back to my solar where you can sleep in my nice warm
bed." His words must have been the right ones, for ever so slowly
Devon released one of her hands, and carefully reached up towards
Corbett.

"That's it…" he coaxed calmly, although his
nerves were seeming to make his whole body shake at the thought
that at any minute the root could break away and send her tumbling
to her death. "I've almost got you…just reach a little more."

Several stones broke loose from under
Devon's foot and she frantically grabbed once again for the root as
her feet went out from under her.

“No!” screamed Corbett, as she now dangled
above the precipice.

"Corbett, I'm scared," she cried, her face
turning white.

"Don't look down. The only thing I want you
do is to look me in the eye."

Devon looked down anyway, responding with a
small whimper.

"Look at me," Corbett demanded. "I know you
have always had a problem with this part, sweetheart, but now is
not the time to be stubborn."

Slowly, Devon let her eyes turn upward to
meet Corbett's.

"Good job. Now try it again and this time
hold out your hand."

As if hypnotized by his words, she inched
one hand higher, slowly releasing her grip on the root and reaching
for him.

“I’ve got you.” He clasped his hand around
hers tightly, feeling her body trembling beneath his grip.

Suddenly, the root snapped and Devon
screamed as her body hung limply, supported by nothing more than
Corbett's hand.

"I've got you," reassured Corbett, and
pulled her to the surface.

They kneeled, bound together, their rapid
hearts beating as one. Corbett was silent, and Devon cried softly.
He held her in his arms, swearing he’d never let her out of his
sight again.

"I thought I had lost you, Devon,” he told
her through his ragged breathing. “I never want to feel that way
again.”

Devon only clung to Corbett tighter than a
leech, her body trembling.

"I'll take the girl now," came a voice from
the darkness. "She is my future fortune, and Kenric will pay
anything I ask to get her back." Boltoff limped towards them from
the darkness with a battle ax raised high over his head. He bled
from a wound in his chest and his eyes almost glowed as one
possessed. Corbett's sword lay just beyond his reach, and with
Devon clinging to him he would never be able to reach it before
Boltoff brought the ax down atop his head.

"Devon, let go of me." Corbett kept his
voice quiet, as he contemplated his plan of action. The girl only
buried her face in his chest and grabbed him even tighter.
"Sweetheart…" his voice was kind but firm. "Let loose with your
grip, or you'll soon be clinging to a corpse."

Boltoff was almost upon him. The battle ax
glimmered from the light of the near fire. As it came slamming down
toward him, Corbett rolled with Devon out of harm’s way just as the
blade came down beside his head. A man leaped from the shadows to
come to his aid, distracting Boltoff while Corbett released Devon
and collected his sword. Then with a shout, Boltoff turned to face
him and Corbett ran his sword through his heart, pushing the man to
the ground. Boltoff’s eyes bulged and his body stilled. When the
dust cleared, he was dead. The Scotsman, Storm MacKeefe, inspected
the body, retrieving Corbett’s sword and handing it to him.

“I’d venture ta say e’s daed this time
milord.”

"What took you so long?" Corbett flashed a
smile of thanks toward the man, and pulled Devon from the ground
and back into his arms. The raven landed on Corbett's shoulder and
he shot it an affectionate sideways glance.

"How is Malcomn?" Corbett asked Storm.

"Leighton and me cousin are watchin' o'er
him, howe'er the lad is unconscious. It doesna look good milord,"
he scowled. "E's lost alot of blewd."

"Tie him onto a horse," Corbett commanded,
picking Devon’s trembling body up into his arms and heading for a
horse himself. "Let's get the hell out of this godforsaken
place."

The last of the bath maids left the solar,
finally leaving Corbett alone with Devon and a tub of hot water
he’d been anticipating the entire way home. He had instructed
Leighton to retire in the great hall, and being totally exhausted,
the young squire happily obliged.

Delwynn and Storm had gone to the alehouse
to celebrate their victory, and possibly pick up a randy wench or
two. Kenric and Cedric were taking turns at Malcomn's side in his
chamber as Leahla assisted Heartha in applying herbs to the boy's
wounds, but he was still unconscious. The word buzzed throughout
the castle that he might not make it through the night.

No one had talked much of what had happened
on the cliffs. Devon told the men Gilda accidentally fell from the
cliff, but she didn’t add more. Corbett had known she was obviously
holding back information, but wasn't sure why. And why had Gilda
been trying to kill her? He had to find out what had happened, but
not tonight. He would spend tonight holding Devon and loving her.
Letting her know she was safe.

He looked at Devon, huddled near the fire.
Her cotehardie was torn, dirty and bloodied. Her face was
tear-stained and streaked with dirt. Her lip crusted over with
blood. He approached her from behind, gently slipping his hands
around her.

“The bath is ready,” he said, already
feeling his loins stir, remembering the last time they’d bathed
together.

“And so am I,” she said. She tried to unlace
her bodice, but her hands were still shaking too badly to do
it.