The sun was coming down fast, and it was dim in the hallway, so that when I opened the bedroom door, all the light coming through the curtains made me squint. I stepped inside, Scanlon closed the door behind me, and there was LaReigne. She was lying on the bed with her shoes off. When she saw me, she sat up, and the book she’d been reading fell out of her hands. The cover had a shirtless man in a kilt on it.

“Oh my god! Zee!” she said. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m here to get you. Let’s go.”

“What do you mean you’re here to get me? Did you bring Marcus?”

“No. I didn’t bring Marcus,” I said. “Come on, put your shoes on so we can go.”

She got up off the bed, but she was staring at me like she couldn’t believe I was there. It hit me, then. She was safe. I grabbed her and held on to her as tight as I could, and for a minute, she didn’t do anything, because she must have been in shock. Then she laughed and put her arms around me. Most of my life, I’d felt like an ugly giant next to her, but right then I felt strong. Strong enough to protect her. We held on to each other, until I remembered Gentry was outside waiting for me. I let go of her and looked around the room for her shoes. They were on the floor next to a chair covered in clothes. Just like at our house.

“Oh my god, Zee. How are you here?” she said.

“It’s a long story, and we have a long drive home, so I’ll tell you all about it.”

She sat back on the edge of the bed and I squatted down to put her shoes on her, like she was Marcus.

“But how?” she said, while I tied her shoes. “How did you even know where we were?”

“I promise, I’ll tell you everything, but we need to go.”

“It’s not like we can just walk out of here. They have guns. There are more of them than us.”

“How many are there?” I said.

“Four.”

“Okay, well, there’s five of us.”

“Who’s with you?” She was still sitting on the bed, looking at me like I was crazy. Had they drugged her? She was acting like she was drugged.

“Gentry, a friend of his, and our cousin Dirk,” I said. “I have money to pay them, so we need to get the hell out of here, okay?”

“I need to talk to Tague first. He—”

“The fuck you do.”

I grabbed her hand and pulled her up to standing.

That was when we heard the first gunshot.

CHAPTER 42

Gentry

   The sword upon thy back is no child’s baton,” the black knight said.

I spake not but gave him my accord. I knew well ’twas no trifle.

“They aren not noble men. The one called Ligett, he meaneth to harm thee.”

The black knight was aright, for tho Scanlon would speak of money, Ligett was full of malice. In his shoulders he held ill intent, where he paced upon the stoop before me. The two knaves whispered one to the other. Tho I heard them not, I kenned well enough what they spake of, for Ligett looked to where Sir Edrard’s arrows had fallen, and thence toward the woods, as tho to seek the place my brother held.

Scanlon entered the house and Ligett alighted from the porch and strode toward the woods. As he passed me, he said, “You stay right fucking there, pal.”

I stayed, but soon the trees would hide him from Sir Edrard’s sight, and so I raised my hand to warn him.

“’Tis nigh dark,” the black knight said. “Soon thou shalt lose thine advantage. Now is the time to leave, for Scanlon is ill-prepared to fight.”

I mounted the stairs and approached the door to look within, but the sinking sun made havoc of shadow and light. As I laid my hand upon the door to open it, the sounding of a gun came behind me. Another came soon after, certs from the woods, but the echo and resound left me hard-pressed to ken the very place.

I stepped free of the door, drew my sword, and was at the ready. Aside the door, I squatted and, ere I had been there a nonce, a man burst from the barn door and ran toward the woods, carrying with him a long gun. From above, Sir Edrard dropped three arrows to the path, and ’twas only by hap that the man was missed by the bolts.

Within the cabin, I heard the footsteps of Scanlon. He ran to the door, loudly and without caution. Mayhap he meant only to fright me, but he thrust the door open with his foot and fired his gun. When he rushed out, I heaved up from where I squatted and struck full force my shoulder upon his flank. The blow sent him to the ground.

“He means to kill thee if he is able,” the black knight said.

Sooth, as quick as he landed, Scanlon gained his feet and raised his gun to fire once more. ’Twas but a breath betwixt us and I hastened it to close.

“You fucking idiot. You really brought a knife to a gunfight.” From pride, Scanlon scorned against me. ’Twas misguided boldness, for he might have wounded me, had he forborne to speak, and fired his gun. Ere he did, I swung my blade and smote his arm with enough might that he dropped the weapon. Scanlon cried out and blood flowed forth.

I made to subdue him, and grappled his neck to cut his breath, and with it his will to fight. I might have mastered him, but from the trees there came more gunshots, and from the barn came the fourth man, the one called Tague Barnwell. He carried not a long gun, but a pistol. I struck Scanlon upon his temple with my pommel, and twisted his wounded arm that I might use him as a shield.

There was naught to be gained by retreating and so I advanced, Scanlon before me til we came to the rail of the porch where Barnwell approached.

“This be no tournament. Thy rules aren for naught,” the black knight said. “If thou fightest not for thy life, certs thou wilt it lose.”

Scanlon ceased his bemoaning, and I felt in his back that he meant to fight. Where before his shoulder was drawn tight to protect his injured limb, he lowered it, for he meant to lunge right. Had I followed the black knight’s entreaty, I might have spared myself all harm, but as I forced Scanlon from me, I felt a burning wound upon my thigh. I heard it not, nor anything, aside the black knight’s admonishment and mine own breath. I ought have done it sooner, but the deed lay clear before me, once I was wounded.

I swung my blade and cleaved Scanlon’s bared neck. His blood was as a warm bath upon my arm and, as he fell at my feet, I leapt down upon Barnwell, ere he could fire his gun.

On the ground, breast-to-breast with me, his gun was of no use, but my blade found his foot, and I drove my head into his chin. ’Twas well for me the wound to my leg was a distant thing, for pain made Barnwell a fool. He grasped my sword with his hand to draw it from his foot, thereby wounding himself a second time. He cried out, I knew not what, and seeing how poorly he fared, he ceased his futile defense and attacked. He hit his arm hard upon my elbow so that I must release him, and ere I regained my hold, he pushed me hence. To free his gun, he meant, but he was unready when the moment came.