Chapter 12
Gawyn glanced down the hallway toward the large double doors leading to the inner courtyard. Two soldiers stood indecisively, staring at him as though he had the answers. Gawyn glanced at the door to the Judgement Room. Damien was in no condition to instruct the soldiers. He couldn’t run a country. That had been Aurora’s job. Aurora.
Gawyn’s heart twisted for Damien. She had been kind and good and an amazing leader. And Damien had loved her.
Gawyn’s mind wandered to another upstart of a girl. A beautiful girl. Justina had gone after Adam, who was with Aurora. A sickening dread washed over him. If Aurora was…gone, where was Justina? He wanted to go and look for her. Surely, she was not with Adam. Surely, she had found her brother and made it to safety before the Hungars attacked.
Every instinct he had was telling him to look for her. He had to know she was unharmed.
Yet, his brother needed him. How could he leave him now? Good God! He was captain of the guard. He had to do something. He marched down the hallway to the soldiers, only to turn the corner to find the hallway filled with concerned peasants, nobles, and merchants. Gawyn hesitated.
Steward Thomas and Constable Grancourt, an older knight with graying hair and a stoic gaze, approached him.
“Captain, most of the village is inside the walls,” Grancourt announced. “The gates are closed and secure.”
Panic seized Gawyn’s heart, clenching tight. How was Justina going to get back inside? He grabbed Thomas’s arm. “Is Justina here?”
“The girl staying as a guest? The farmer’s niece? No.” Thomas shook his head.
Gawyn pursed his lips. He was going after her. He glanced back at the Judgement Room door. “Keep those gates closed.” That would keep Damien in the castle. His worst fear was that his brother would run off in some futile attempt to kill the Hungars for what they had done, knowing full well he would be killed. “Keep those walkways manned. I want every eye looking for the Hungars. They’re coming.”
At his proclamation, a murmuring of anxiety swept through the gathered group.
Gawyn glanced at the peasants and nobles a few feet from them, listening to every word.
An alarmed cry issued from a young girl who clenched her mother’s hand. A servant placed her hand over her mouth in fear. A noble woman fanned herself making the white feather in her headpiece bob.
Gawyn seized Thomas’s arm and put a hand on Grancourt’s shoulder, leading them further down the hallway, out of listening range.
Gawyn looked at Grancourt. “Sir Grancourt, you are in charge until I return.”
“Return? Where are you going?” Grancourt wondered.
Gawyn glared at Grancourt. “You are not to tell anyone I am gone.” He glanced at Thomas. “You either.”
Both men nodded in understanding.
“Keep the walls manned. No one enters. No one leaves.”
Grancourt bobbed his head. “Aye Captain.”
“I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
Again, he nodded, but didn’t ask where he was going.
Gawyn seized his arm in warrior fashion, clutching it just below the elbow, staring into his eyes. “The Hungars are out there. Don’t let your guard down. Acquitaine must not fall.”
Grancourt nodded. “Aye, Captain.”
When Gawyn released his arm with a firm nod, Grancourt hurried down the corridor, moving through the crowd of people.
Gawyn leaned close to Thomas. “Don’t bother Damien.”
“No, Captain,” Thomas promised.
“Is there a way out of the castle, but not through the main gates?”
Thomas nodded. “The sally port.”
Justina stood motionless for a long moment, the dagger lifted high above her head, staring into Aurora’s eyes. Shock and then fear passed in Aurora’s wide blue eyes. Then she lifted her chin and Justina could have sworn she saw acceptance. Acceptance for what? Her death? Being so stupid! Justina wanted to kill her. She wanted to take her life for Adam. She wanted to drive the dagger into her heart, so her murdering husband would feel the same pain she felt when he took her father’s life. Her hands trembled. She gritted her teeth.
Aurora bowed her head.
Justina let out a cry of frustration and lowered the hand holding the dagger. She couldn’t do it. She couldn’t kill her. Adam’s death was not her fault. Her father’s death was not her fault. Aurora was innocent, and she couldn’t kill her.
Justina stalked away and then marched back toward Aurora, pacing. Anger, anguish, and sorrow all swirled inside of her. She wanted to sit on the ground and sob; she wanted to run and run and run; she wanted to scream. But she knew none of that would be enough. Not enough to right this. Not enough to bring her brother back. A numbing sadness swelled through her. She had no one left. She was alone. And then, one person suddenly came to her mind.
Gawyn. She thought of his embrace and how it would make her feel warm and secure. All she could think about was being held in his arms. She scowled. That was preposterous. Ridiculous! He couldn’t make this right. But he could make this better. He could make her better. Tears entered her eyes and her shoulders slumped.
“I’m sorry.”
Justina looked at Aurora. She knelt on the ground where she had been a moment ago. Justina couldn’t say anything to her. Aurora had shown remarkable courage trying to bash the Hungar’s skull in. The red mark on her chin was testament to that. And Justina had to admit she probably would not be standing there if Aurora hadn’t done that. And that made her angry, too. She didn’t want to be alive when her entire family was dead.
“I’m very sorry, but we should get back to the castle now.”
Everyone Aurora had been with had been killed in the attack. Her ladies, the soldiers. She was hurting too. Justina clenched her jaw. The last thing she wanted to do was feel sympathy for her. Still, she had been kind to Adam. And Adam had thought he loved her.
Justina shook her head as tears threatened to blind her again. She moved forward and grabbed Aurora’s arm, pulling her to her feet.
Suddenly the snapping of a twig sounded, and she froze. She looked toward the sound but could only see dappled sunlight through the thick cover of the forest. As her gaze swept the forest, she saw the trampled dirt of the forest floor, footprints ground into the fallen leaves. So many footprints. She glanced at the ground beneath Aurora and all around her. The entire area was filled with footprints and trampled brush, almost as if an army had come through. Justina’s grip tightened on Aurora’s arm. An army of Hungars. “We have to get out of here.”
Justina led her quickly away from the trampled forest. She paused to glance back at Adam. She couldn’t think about him now. She couldn’t. She would collapse into a pile of useless wailing. It wouldn’t get them back to the castle. It wouldn’t get her to Gawyn. Gawyn. She was amazed at how much she ached to see him, despite his profession of being a killer. A killer like his brother.
“This isn’t the way to the castle.”
Justina glanced over her shoulder at Aurora. Through everything she had endured, she looked amazing. Her hair was braided and barely a strand was out of place. Her dress was not ripped. Justina couldn’t imagine what she looked like. “No.” She continued walking at a quick pace.
Aurora grabbed her arm, stopping her. “I have to get back to the castle.”
“The Hungars went that way. They are between us and the castle.”
Aurora glanced toward the castle in horror.
“We’ll have to find some other way.”
“My people...”
“Will have to wait. If those Hungars find you...”
Aurora’s face drained of color. She had seen what they would do.
Justina nodded. “We’ll stay in the forest as long as we can. These are your lands. You know them. Is there somewhere we can go? Somewhere safe?”
Aurora looked at her and there was sadness in her eyes. “The waterfall.”
“There’s fresh water there?” Aurora nodded, and Justina continued, “I worry the Hungars would go there looking for water. Where else?”
Aurora looked down in thought. She opened her mouth and then closed it, scowling. “I thought my entire kingdom was safe. I just...”
Justina grabbed her shoulders. “We don’t have time for doubt. The Hungars are out here. We have to find somewhere safe to hide.”
Aurora shook her head. “I don’t... I just...” Then her eyes lifted to meet Justina’s. “Not far from the castle. There’s a copse of trees surrounded by boulders.”
“Boulders?”
“There are a lot of hiding places tucked in the boulders. The children like to play on them.”
“How is that going to help us?”
“If we’re lucky, the guards from the city wall will be able to see us.”
Gawyn was familiar with the path he steered his horse through. The trail was on the way to McGregan Clearing, a favored picnic spot.
They had searched the waterfall earlier that day and found nothing. The only other spot Gawyn could think of for a picnic was McGregan Clearing. As the moon rose high in the sky, Gawyn led his horse down the forest path. When he heard talking in the distance, he tied his horse to a tree and continued on foot. He knew he couldn’t leave Damien alone for long. He was out of his mind with remorse. He would do something foolish, Gawyn was sure.
But Gawyn had to search for Justina. He felt compelled to know she was safe. He had to find her. He would search around the clearing. Perhaps she was hiding with Adam in the forest somewhere. But why hadn’t she returned to the castle? That’s what worried him.
He would be lucky to find her, he knew. Especially if she were walking. It was unlikely they would bump into each other. The forest was too big. He walked further, keeping his eyes and ears open, scanning. Movement sounded to his left and he paused. But then he heard the scurrying of an animal. He relaxed slightly and continued forward, moving from tree to tree. He would stop, scan, and move. Until he saw an unnatural bump on the ground. The shape looked like a large person. Slowly, he drew a dagger from his belt. He waited, listening. Was it someone sleeping?
He inched forward. The man, it was obvious the rotund figure was a large man, did not move. The smell of blood was strong. When he stood over him, Gawyn saw the fur he wore across his large shoulders and recognized him as a Hungar. He glanced around to be sure there were no others. His gaze fell upon another dark form on the forest floor. Smaller. Much smaller.
Gawyn leaned close to the big man. No snoring. He leaned closer. No breathing. It took a moment to notice the ground beneath the man’s head was slick with blood. He was dead. Gawyn pulled back to look at him. It was difficult to see anything but shadows in the dim night, but Gawyn made out a dark slash across the man’s throat. His eyes narrowed slightly. Killed. By whom? Soldiers would inflict sword wounds.
Gawyn turned to the other form and approached the small shape. Before he got close, he could smell it. He had smelled death several times in his life and he would never get used to it. He stopped when he could see the outline of the small, thin body on the forest floor. A boy. His entire body clenched in dread. He bent beside the body, moving close to see his features. His eyes were open, staring off into the night sky. Gawyn recognized him immediately. Adam. He steeled himself against the agony that welled up inside him and shook his head in regret.
He whirled. Where was Justina? He circled the small area and couldn’t find any more bodies. He stopped at Adam’s side again. Had Adam killed the Hungar? No. Adam was too inexperienced to be of any threat to a warrior. It was probably the Hungar that killed Adam. Gawyn glanced back at the lump of a man. Then who killed the Hungar? Someone had slit his throat.
A noise from the clearing beyond caught his attention. A rustling sound. He bent and stealthily followed the trampled leaves to the clearing. As he stepped from the trees, the moon broke through the clouds to shine down. Bodies lay scattered all through the clearing. The grasses were trampled around the corpses. Gawyn steeled himself and moved into the clearing. He walked to the first body. A woman. He gently turned her over. Lady Cathleen. Her eyes were wide, her lips parted in a silent scream.
Gawyn forced himself to be numb. He had seen death before. Even innocent death. But this, this was slaughter. An unnecessary killing. He clenched his free fist. Brutal. Women were no threat to armed soldiers. He slowly rose and looked around the clearing.
There were so many bodies and he would have to check every one, no matter how difficult it was. He had known these people, spent days with them. They were close friends of Aurora’s. Aurora. Her body would be here, too. He forced emotion aside. At least he’d be able to return it to Damien for a proper burial.
He moved to the next body. He wasn’t sure what he would do if he found Justina amidst the carnage. No matter what he did, he couldn’t prepare himself for her death.
Once, darkness had been Damien’s friend. Once, he had belonged to the shadows. But Aurora had come and banished them from his soul, revealing him as a hero. A good man. Now, he felt cold. Rage burned inside him, charring away the good man he had become. With Aurora gone, the beast lived again. He wanted blood. He wanted to kill the Hungars. Every last one of them.
Damien threw the rope over the wall, glancing one way and then the other. He knew he couldn’t let the guards see him; they would never let him leave the castle alone. They would demand to accompany him. But this was something he had to do alone. He had been an assassin in another lifetime. He had been a killer. And he knew how to circumvent sentries and how to stay hidden. His instincts were heightened. He should have been amazed at how easily his past skills returned. But he wasn’t.
The moon hid behind thick clouds as his feet hit the ground. He looked up the tall wall where the rope hung. His passage of return. If he made it. It didn’t matter if he did or not. He would seek vengeance at all costs. He would be death’s messenger. He snuck across the moat. He was an excellent swimmer and the dark waters held no peril for him. He came up on the other side and stayed low to the ground, moving along the moat until he saw them. The Hungar camp directly outside of the city walls.
He clenched his teeth. Laughter floated around flickering fires and white tents. They had killed Aurora. The words played over and over in his mind and his hands clenched so tightly they shook. He wanted to kill them all. He wanted to make them pay for hurting her.
It would do no good to think of anything but his mission. There would be blood this night, he knew. The beast inside of him would be sated. He wanted the blood of one man above all the rest. The leader. Hogar. The one who had given the order to take Aurora’s life. To take her away from him.
He watched the camp, waiting patiently. Far too patiently for a man bent on death. He observed, taking in their laughter, their movements. Damien recognized the outline of Hogar, the big man with thick shoulders and arms. Hogar crossed the campsite and disappeared into a tent.
Damien focused on the tent. He stayed low to the ground and moved toward the tent. He paused once when a shout went up from his left. A drunken Hungar stumbled onto one of the campfires while another laughed.
He froze until the scene settled down and the camp was quiet again. Then he moved quickly, quietly forward. Hiding behind a wagon, he scanned the area. From this vantage point, he was able to see the front of Hogar’s tent. One guard. Hogar obviously thought there was no danger to him. The fool.
Damien slowly eased his dagger from his belt, making no sound. He would not miss this opportunity. Hogar would be dead before day break.
His hand shook with the image of Hogar lying in a pool of his own blood. Damien desired his death like he had no other.
He skirted the edges of the camp moving from shadow to shadow. The essence of an assassin had returned, filling him with its full force. It was almost as if he had never left it. Such anger and the need for vengeance burned within him. He wanted blood. The beast inside him was demanding, hungry.
Inside Hogar’s tent, he saw the leader move. The big man crossed the tent and lay down, leaning forward to blow out a tiny flame.
Damien waited. Patiently, anticipating. He paused, scanning to make sure no one was watching. He waited for what seemed like hours until he heard a snore issuing from the tent. He moved. He lifted the edge of the tent flap and crawled beneath the sheet, pausing halfway beneath to allow his eyes to adjust to the complete darkness.
Hogar slept on the ground like the animal he was. Damien wasted no time. He moved swiftly, silently, deadly up to him until he stood over him. He placed the sharp edge of the dagger against Hogar’s throat and moved his wrist.