Chapter 17
The drawbridge of the city of Acquitaine slowly lowered.
Laszlo reined his horse tightly. His steed sensed his anger and hatred. His brother had been killed in the night by a coward, an assassin. He wanted revenge. He wanted to slaughter every last person in Acquitaine, especially their leader, Damien. After they had butchered the lady of Acquitaine in the forest, the lord had retreated into the castle, hiding behind stone walls and closed doors for days now. Finally, finally, someone would come forth to be killed.
His men were nervous behind him, but they would not defy his orders. Half wanted to return home. Half wanted the same revenge he wanted. As the new leader of the Hungars, he had to prove himself, as well as seek vengeance for his brother.
A man on a black horse wearing ebony armor led an army of men across the drawbridge. The sound of their horses footfalls on the wooden planks of the drawbridge sounded like loud drums.
Laszlo tightened his fist in the reins and his horse danced anxiously. It could only be Lord Damien. It could only be the ruler of Acquitaine. He gritted his teeth. The weak ruler would die this day.
The group of Acquitaine armored knights and footmen came to a stop across the field from the Hungars. For a long moment, the two armies faced each.
Finally, Damien cantered his horse forward.
Laszlo spurred his horse, moving forward to meet the weak ruler.
Damien stopped his horse before Laszlo.
Laszlo moved his horse from side to side before him, anxious to strike. Anxious for blood to be spilled.
“You will not win,” Damien promised. “Surrender now and return home.”
“There will be no surrender,” Laszlo growled. “My brother is dead, murdered by one of your cowards. I will take Acquitaine and all inside will be killed.”
Damien flipped up the visor of his helmet to stare at Laszlo. The same hate and fury burned in his eyes. “You’ve been warned.” He whipped his horse around and charged back toward his army.
Laszlo returned to his men. He sized up the Acquitaine army with a quick, sweeping glance. They two armies had the same amount of men, evenly matched. Except his men were feared and trained in blood where the Acquitaine men were weak and soft. Chivalrous, he thought with contempt.
Suddenly, from behind him, his men began to murmur. He looked at them, all fine, battle-hardened warriors. One man pointed to the top tower of Acquitaine’s castle. The sun rose, directly behind the tower, illuminating a figure in white.
“An angel,” one of his men whispered.
If Laszlo didn’t know better, he would have believed the woman was an angel. Her golden hair waved in the breeze; her white dress flowed around her. Laszlo recognized her, even from this distance. Confusion and disbelief swelled inside of him. “It can’t be,” he snarled. “It can’t be. I killed her! I cut her braid from her head!”
Damien heard him. He glared at him with hate and fury.
“It’s not her!” Laszlo screamed. He turned back to his men to see fear in their wide eyes. Some whispered in uncertainty, some silently prayed. Their horses moved beneath them nervously, pacing. One steed reared onto its hind legs.
“But you killed her,” Kiprian, his first lieutenant, hissed.
Others around him nodded agreement.
Laszlo swung around to look again at the woman at the top of the tower. It looked like her. No one could have the same hair, so golden it rivaled the rays of the sun.
“You killed her,” someone repeated from behind him.
“We can’t win against an angel,” another said.
“No!” Laszlo shouted. “It is a trick! That is not Aurora of Acquitaine.” He drew his sword and kicked his steed, hard. His horse charged forward.
Damien answered his charge. His horse galloped forward, and his sword flashed in the morning sun as he drew it and held it high. Behind him, the Acquitaine army followed, racing into a battle where the odds did not favor their victory.
Rage snarled Laszlo’s lips. He chanced a glance over his shoulder. Half of his men followed him forward, the other half retreated toward the forest. A howl of rage issued from his throat. Even half of his men could slaughter the Acquitaine men. He pointed his sword forward. He would not back down from this fight. They had killed his brother, Hogar. The deed would not go unpunished.
Before he could reach the lord of Acquitaine, the sound of clanging swords echoed behind him. He swiveled his head. Shock washed over him. Another army appeared from the depths of the forest, descending into the clearing toward his retreating men.
They were trapped, caught between the Acquitaine men and this new army.
Laszlo threw his head back and howled. He would never surrender. He would slice through the men and enter the castle to slaughter everyone. Acquitaine would fall.
Damien came charging toward him.
And their lord would be the first one killed, Laszlo vowed.
Their swords met with a thunderous sound that echoed across the clearing. Laszlo swung again and again, but Damien matched his blows with as much hatred.
“She should be dead,” Laszlo growled.
Damien didn’t reply. He leapt at him, knocking him from his horse and both tumbled to the ground, Damien landing on top of Laszlo. He elbowed him in the face with his armored limb.
Stunned, it took Laszlo a moment to recover.
Damien put a dagger to his throat.
The metal was cold against his skin, and as surprising as the fall to the ground. Laszlo grimaced, staring into cold, black eyes. He waited for death. He waited for the end, for the cut across his throat, but the moments stretched on. A slow smile eased across his lips. “Your society is gentle. It has laws. You can’t just kill me.”
“Sentence for you has already been decided,” Damien growled. “I just wanted you to realize you and your army have been defeated. The Hungars will fall under Acquitaine rule now.”
Laszlo’s lips thinned with anger. With hatred. “Never,” he hissed. He lifted his sword arm.
With a quick swipe of his wrist, Damien ran the blade across Laszlo’s throat.
Laszlo gurgled as his lifeblood ran from the cut.
Damien leaned close to him. “I killed your brother.”
Rage turned Laszlo’s face red and he reached for Damien.
Damien sat back and watched him die.
Gawyn stood at the city gates, watching the battle unfold. A line of five soldiers stood behind him. His orders were not to let any Hungars enter the city. He clenched his sword tightly, wanting desperately to battle at Damien’s side. He also knew this was a battle of revenge for Damien. His brother needed to avenge Aurora, to take out his anger over everything these barbarians had done to her. Everything she had endured.
Gawyn clenched his sword. He felt the same need course through his body. A Hungar had taken away Justina’s brother. She was hurting because of Adam’s death. And Gawyn wanted revenge for that. But his responsibility was to protect the city. No Hungar would pass over the drawbridge.
Gawyn began to pace. The need to be part of this battle coursed through his veins. And yet, he would not abandon his post.
He watched the Acquitaine soldiers battle the savages. He had trained most of these men and he knew they were skilled fighters. And yet, he watched his men struggle against the onslaught of the barbarians. They made mistakes that Gawyn cringed at. He watched the Hungars, the way they fought with ruthless cunning, looking for any opening, any weakness. “What do you see?” Gawyn asked the five knights behind him.
For a moment, no one said a word.
“Look at the way they fight,” he said to them as well as himself.
The Hungars were just a few inches shorter than his men, but they fought relentlessly, hammering down on the Acquitaine soldiers with swords, axes, and clubs. The fighting reminded Gawyn of a bear he had once seen in the court of a noble. The bear was fighting an armored man, fighting for its life. It attacked on its hind legs, overwhelming the knight, coming down from above.
Even though the knights were just inches taller than the Hungars, the Hungars used their power to reign blows down from above. The knights were hard pressed to defend this kind of overwhelming brute force.
“They leave their middle open,” one of the guards said from behind him.
Gawyn nodded. “They attack from above. If you can go to your right and attack their side or back, you would have a chance. You cannot beat them with a head on attack.” That was it. That was the defense.
Suddenly, a group of Hungars skirted the battling Acquitaine soldiers, coming around the side, and headed for the castle at a run.
Gawyn looked back at his men. “Don’t avoid the battle. Deflect, sidestep and attack.”
The men nodded and clutched their weapons in anticipation.
“Don’t let them in,” Gawyn commanded. “We must hold the city.”
As the Hungars charged across the drawbridge, their stomping, heavy feet sounded like thunder on the wooden planks of the bridge.
Gawyn clutched the pommel of his sword in two hands. He was going to be able to exact revenge for Adam and for Justina. He clenched his teeth and stepped forward to greet the first Hungar with a swing of his sword. The blade connected a glancing blow to the attacking Hungar’s side, but Gawyn had to quickly move to the side as the Hungar’s hammer slammed down to the earth.
Gawyn thrust his weapon forward, slicing into the Hungar’s side. The Hungar staggered.
Gawyn whirled just in time to avoid another Hungar’s swing. The attacker’s blade crossed the air where he had just been standing.
Gawyn shoved the fatally wounded hammer-wielding Hungar forward so he knocked into the Hungar with the sword. But the Hungar with the sword shoved his dying friend aside and came after Gawyn again, swinging.
Gawyn blocked the blow and it jarred his entire arm. He spun to the side and struck, slicing at the Hungar. Instead of piercing the barbarian, his sword bounced off harmlessly. Armor! He was wearing armor beneath his animal pelts.
The Hungar spun, bringing his blade around. Gawyn barely had a moment to draw back and the tip of the Hungar’s blade pinged off Gawyn’s chest plate armor. He backed away and the Hungar drove forward, swinging his sword down again and again.
Gawyn stepped out of the way and blocked the strikes. Each block felt as though a wall of bricks had fallen on his arm. He was tiring. Every time he tried to put distance between them, the Hungar pursued him, refusing to allow Gawyn a moment to recover or to think.
And then a blow landed against his sword with enough strength that Gawyn fell backward, his sword spinning away to the side.
The Hungar approached slowly, a grin on his face.
Gawyn looked around. His weapon lay in the dirt an arm’s length to his right. Behind the Hungar, four of the Acquitaine men were battling one last Hungar.
The Hungar with the sword stood over Gawyn, lifting his sword high in the air for the finishing blow. Like a bear, Gawyn’s mind repeated. His middle and legs were wide open. Gawyn acted instinctively. He shoved his booted foot hard into the Hungar’s right knee.
As the Hungar howled in pain, his knee buckled. The tip of the sword continued to drop, but the angle had changed to Gawyn’s left. He rolled out of the way, grabbed his sword, and thrust his blade up beneath the chest plate.
Stunned, the bear of a man stood still for a moment. He looked down at his wound and swayed.
Gawyn climbed to his feet, pulling his sword free.
The Hungar winced and jerked before he toppled to the side like a felled tree.
Breathing hard, Gawyn looked at his men. The Hungar’s were dead, lying on the ground around them. Grimes was holding his side as another knight supported him with an arm around his shoulders. Gawyn moved to Grimes.
Grimes nodded. “I’ll be fine.”
“Get him to the physician,” Gawyn ordered. He turned to look out at the battle in the field. Only a few fights remained. Many Hungars lay dead across the wide field. Amidst the corpses were scattered soldiers from Acquitaine. To the left side of the field, a large group of Hungars stood, surrounded by mounted knights.
Gawyn also saw another army mixed with the Acquitaine men.
Through the carnage and the destruction, Gawyn sought out his brother.
Damien stood in the middle of the battle, clutching his sword, standing over a dead Hungar. He glanced around until he locked eyes with Gawyn.
It was over.
Gawyn took a deep breath and nodded his head once.
It was over.
Damien returned his acknowledgement.
The city was safe. Gawyn had kept the city safe from the Hungars.
Anxiety filled Justina. She paced her chambers, waiting for Gawyn to come back. She moved to the window but could not see the fight she knew was taking place. She pounded the ledge in frustration and moved toward the door. She came up short and groaned softly. She had given Gawyn her word she would wait here for him. She couldn’t help this horrible sense of dread that rose inside of her when he wasn’t there.
She knew it was irrational, but after Adam’s death, she felt…vulnerable and lonely. She hated it. She hated feeling that way. It wasn’t who she was, who she wanted to be.
Suddenly, the door opened. Gawyn stood in the doorway, breathing heavily as if he had run the entire way.
Just the sight of him sent relief coursing through her. She almost trembled with it.
His gaze moved over her. “Going somewhere?”
She threw herself into his arms.
He caught her and held her against him.
His embrace was warm and comforting and strong. She sank into him, his rich male scent, his reassuring touch. He was all she could ever want. He had told her that he loved her. And she realized she loved him, also. Desperately.
He kissed the top of her head, his hand stroking her back. “It’s over,” he whispered.
She pulled back to look into his brown eyes.
“Aurora’s cousin’s betrothed aided in the battle. His army surprised them from the rear. The Hungars were overtaken, either captured or dead.”
“It’s over?” she repeated in disbelief.
Gawyn nodded.
She should have felt happiness, she should have felt relief, but the sadness lingered. “It doesn’t bring Adam back.”
Gawyn shook his head. “We’ll give him a proper burial on the farm.” He closed his eyes for a long moment and dipped his head. When he looked at her again, there was anguish burning in his orbs. “I’m sorry, Justina. I brought you both here… I never thought –”
She pressed her fingers against his lips, stopping him. “This isn’t your fault. How could you have known? How could I have known?” She shook her head. “It just doesn’t help the pain.” Her eyes watered as she looked up at him. “I miss him.”
Gawyn nodded. “Me, too.”
Justina looked down at Gawyn’s plate armored chest. She ran her hand over its cold hardness. “I have to go home.”
Gawyn tightened his grip on her. “This is your home now.”
Justina shook her head. “This can never be my home.”
“Stay here. I’m sure there’s work you can do here. Aurora will find something.”
Justina’s brows knit. “I can’t.” She looked up at him. “I can’t stay here.”
“I want you to.”
She placed a hand on his cheek. “I can’t. Not here with your brother. There is no justice for my father.”
Agony swept over Gawyn’s face. “He’s not the same man.”
Justina knew part of that savage killer still lived inside of Damien. She had glimpsed it when they returned Aurora to him. She softly shook her head. “He is when I look at him.”
Gawyn looked away from Justina toward the stone floor, his brow furrowed with conflict and anguish. His hands slipped from her body. He nodded and stepped away from her.
Cold invaded the space where his body had been. Justina wanted to reach for him. Instead, her fingers curled into fists.
“Where will you go?”
She couldn’t look at him, either. It was just too painful. She didn’t want to give him up, but she knew this was his home. At the castle. “I want to rebuild. Uncle Bruce would have wanted it.”
He turned away from her. “I don’t like you being out there alone.”
Justina grinned a humorless smile. “I’ll be fine.”
“I’ll make sure you have adequate protection.” He nodded to himself. “I’ll send supplies with you and people to help you build.”
“Gawyn,” Justina called. “I can’t thank you enough for all you’ve done for me.”
Gawyn stared at her, and his slow gaze moved over her face.
Sadness grew inside of her. She didn’t know if she could give him up. She loved him so. He was all she had left. Her family was gone.
She was afraid, she realized. She was afraid of losing him, too. Better this than loving him and having him taken from her.
She turned away, steeling her breaking heart, as he quietly left the room.
Gawyn couldn’t make Justina stay. And he couldn’t leave. He had abandoned Damien long ago and he had vowed never to leave him again.
He escorted Justina to the clearing before the city wall. Guards waited for her with the wagons of supplies Gawyn had collected near the forest. His hungry eyes swept her, trying to memorize every curve of her small body. He trembled with unease and want. He didn’t know what to say to her. With every part of his being, he wanted to go with her. He wanted to be part of her life as her husband.
He would never propose marriage when he knew he could not be with her. He glanced over his shoulder. Damien and Aurora stood in the road. Aurora had insisted on coming to say goodbye to her and Damien would never let her out of his sight again, Gawyn was certain.
Justina turned to them after inspecting the wagons. Her brown and white mare waited near the wagons. She looked at Gawyn for a very long moment, sadness in her large eyes. Then, her gaze shifted to Damien and the sadness vanished to be replaced with unease and fear.
Gawyn knew she was not ready to forgive Damien, if she ever would be. He wished he could make her see that he wasn’t that killer anymore. There was nothing he could say or do to make Justina acknowledge that.
Aurora stepped past him to Justina’s side. She stared at her for a long, quiet moment before wrapping her arms around her in a tight embrace.
Justina stood stiffly for a moment before melting into Aurora’s hug and squeezing her back. The women shared an experience neither would forget.
When they parted, Aurora brushed a strand of hair from Justina’s cheek. “You will visit again, won’t you?”
Justina grinned. “Of course. Soon.”
Everyone knew it was a lie. Gawyn’s heart squeezed tight.
Aurora moved to Damien’s side.
Justina approached Gawyn, her gaze on the ground. “I can’t thank you enough.”
“Thank me?” Gawyn echoed. “Don’t.” He shook his head. “I did nothing.”
She placed a hand on his. “You did all you could.”
Gawyn stared at her small hand on his. He couldn’t stop himself from taking it into his own.
“Come with me,” Justina whispered, her voice full and thick.
Gawyn lifted her hand to his lips. “My place is here. In Acquitaine. At Damien’s side.” He realized how stiff and hurtful his words were and hugged Justina tightly. “I would give it all up for you, Justina. But I can’t. I can’t leave him. He’s my brother.”
Justina held him, and a soft, broken sob echoed in his ears. She broke away from his hold and turned quickly, moving to her horse.
Gawyn stood frozen, as if his entire heart had been wrenched from his chest.
“You want to go with her?” Damien asked in astonishment. His brother now stood beside him, staring at him. “Back to her farm?”
“My place is here with you.” He looked at his brother. He had left Damien on that accursed slave ship, abandoned him when they were children, and it had taken Damien a lifetime to forgive him. He would never make that mistake again. “I left you once and I won’t do it again.”
“Good,” Damien murmured, unconvincingly.
Gawyn looked back at Justina. He watched her walk away toward her steed and couldn’t help the longing and anguish that consumed him.
Damien stared at the woman. He couldn’t even remember her name. He glanced at Gawyn. His brother’s eyes were fixed on her as though the sun rose and fell with her. Damien grimaced. What did he see in her? Part of this animosity was jealousy, Damien knew. He had just found Gawyn. He had just gotten his brother back and they had become friends. He depended on him more than he did with anyone else. How dare this woman come between them? He would not give him up.
And then Aurora stepped up beside him, sliding her fingers through his.
Damien looked at her. His entire body ached with longing for her. She was his sunshine, his life. He knew what life was like without her and he never wanted to live that life again.
She stared at him with large, piercing blue eyes filled with sympathy, as though she understood what he was experiencing.
Lord, he loved her. He loved her beyond reason.
Suddenly, Damien snapped his gaze back to Gawyn. Understanding sliced through the jealousy like a sharp blade. Gawyn loved Justina. And it was a moment later that Damien realized he did indeed know her name. Gawyn loved her maybe as much as he loved Aurora.
Damien had been in darkness without her. And he didn’t want his brother to be in that world.
Gawyn had saved him over and over again. It was time Damien returned the favor. He released Aurora’s hand and turned away from Gawyn as if heading back to the castle. “You’re fired.”
“What?” Gawyn asked, shocked.
Damien looked at Aurora. “I said…go and be a farmer.”
Aurora’s lips turned up in proud satisfaction. She had known!
Gawyn stood, dumbfounded.
Damien knew he was doing the right thing, no matter how much he would miss his brother, no matter how much his heart hurt.
“No,” Gawyn said. “I’m not leaving you.”
Damien turned to him again. “It’s not another country. It’s on the border of Acquitaine.”
Gawyn still shook his head, refusing. “I made that mistake before and I will not do it again.”
Damien knew how much Gawyn regretted leaving him on the slave ship when they were young. It all seemed a different time, a different life. He put a hand on his brother’s shoulder. “I want you to be happy.”
Gawyn’s brow furrowed in indecision and confusion.
Damien squeezed his shoulder. “I’ll send word if I need you. I expect you to do the same. I officially relieve you of your command.”
Gawyn’s intense gaze, a gaze filled with hesitancy and plagued with an internal struggle, focused on Damien.
Damien felt Gawyn’s loyalty to his core, yet he felt his brother’s desire to be with the woman he loved. The two brothers stared at each for a long moment before Gawyn grasped Damien and pulled him into a tight embrace.
Damien knew he was leaving. Missing Gawyn had already claimed a dark corner in his soul. Blood bound them, determination brought them together, and loyalty united them.
Gawyn pulled back and looked Damien in the eye. A silent vow of brotherly love passed between them before Gawyn turned and raced after Justina.
He caught up with her, grabbing her hand and spinning her around. He pulled her to him, kissing her tenderly.
Aurora joined Damien, watching Gawyn. “I’ll miss him.”
Damien nodded in agreement. He wrapped a hand around Aurora’s waist and pulled her to his side. Her warmth banished the darkness inside him.
“Will you be all right?”
Damien stared at Gawyn as he walked hand in hand with Justina toward the horse. He grinned. “I’d pay to see him working in the fields.”
Aurora smiled. “She’ll teach him. He’ll be a grand farmer.”
“A farmer with a sword.”
“At least he will protect our border.”
Damien turned to her in surprise. “Always thinking about yourself,” he teased, because that was always the last thing Aurora did.
She entwined her hands around his neck. “You said I should start.”
“And so you should.” He kissed her lips, tasting her, loving her. He would be forever grateful to Gawyn for bringing her back to him.
As Damien and Aurora headed back to the castle, Damien turned one last time to watch his brother depart.