Page 113 of Bold Angel
Where was Stephen? he wondered, beginning to search among the trees, determined to find him,determined to see him pay for his treachery. All the while his mind ran over the person or persons who might have betrayed him.
Through a break in the forest, he saw Odo, fighting valiantly against two of Malvern’s men. No traitor there, as he knew there would not be.
Even as he parried one of Malvern’s lancers, Caryn’s lovely image came to mind. Caryn and Stephen? His stomach clenched at the thought. No, she detested the man nearly as much as he did. Why then, would she have done it? What could she possibly have to gain?
Ral fought his way through a small group of stubbornly fighting outlaws. His men were holding their own, he saw, though the odds were distinctly in Malvern’s favor. ’Twas loyalty, he knew, that kept them fighting so hard, while Malvern’s men felt little or naught for their leader. Only the promise of gain drove them on.
And his men had received far better training. Hours of it, endless and grueling, honing their skills to a razor-sharp edge, placing Braxston’s knights among the finest in the land.
“Malvern!” Hugh pointed frantically northward, knowing Ral would be searching, determined to see the bastard suffer the sharp cold thrust of his blade.
Ral rode hard in that direction, the stallion darting among the trees, dodging men in battle, the big horse far more agile than it appeared. Ral saw Stephen ride off to the right, turned Satan in that direction, and was almost upon him when two mail-clad men, mounted and wielding bloody swords, swooped out from behind a copse of trees.
Ral swore a vicious oath as Malvern rode safely away, and a fresh rush of anger broke over him. The first man took a blade thrust in the shoulder but kept on fighting, distracting him long enough for the other man’s sword to pierce his thigh. He grunted in pain as Satan reared,his hooves lashing out, coming down hard on a knight on foot who raced toward him across the muddy earth. Two more ringing blows ended the first man’s life. Ral spun the big black, avoiding the second man’s blade, felt the animal stumble and begin to go down, leaned to the side and jumped clear of the saddle just as the huge horse crashed to the earth.
Satan rolled to his feet, shaking himself and apparently unharmed, while Ral came up swinging his blade. Slicing into the taller man, hearing his wild shriek of pain, he turned to see two more men bearing down on him. Footsteps behind him signaled the approach of a third man. Ral tried to turn, to position himself to defend against all three, but his strength had begun to fail, and his leg was oozing a thick stream of blood.
He could almost feel the blade’s sharp teeth sinking into his back when he caught a flash of Braxston red and black from the corner of his eye. He saw Geoffrey’s tall lean frame, saw the blond knight wield his sword against the man approaching Ral from behind, heard metal clang against metal and the man’s grunt of pain. Ral landed several clanging blows against his two attackers, thrust into one, sliced into the other, and turned to see Geoffrey take a blade thrust high between his ribs.
A mortal one, it appeared to Ral, who stiffened at the needless death of one of his own, especially one so young.
Around him the battle still raged. He dispensed with the knight who had wounded Geoffrey, searched for other possible attackers but saw none. As he scanned the campsite and the forest around him, he discovered Malvern’s men had begun to retreat, that some of his own men gave chase, and that the others were dealing with what remained of the outlaw band.
Knowing Malvern would be long gone, he turned his attention to Geoffrey and saw that Odo also moved toward him. At the same moment, the two of themreached the man who lay on the ground in a spreading pool of blood.
Ral knelt beside him. “Rest easy, lad. The battle is nearly won.”
“Malvern … he is … dead?”
Ral clenched his jaw. “Fled, I fear. The man has no stomach for defeat.”
“W-What of the Ferret?”
Ral glanced at Odo, certain he would not have left his men without having the outlaw in hand.
“Captured,” his red-haired friend confirmed. “He can speak to the king of his pact with the devil.”
“How many men… did we lose?”
Again Odo spoke. “Twenty dead so far.” He glanced down at the blood seeping from Ral’s thigh to darken his tunic. “Another twenty wounded. We are lucky the number was not greater.”
A tight sob came from Geoffrey’s throat, followed by a jagged fit of coughing. Tears welled in his eyes and began to slide down his cheeks. “My fault,” he said, gasping as he fought to drag in short breaths of air. “I believed… Lord Stephen meant only to capture the Ferret. He wanted… to win the king’s favor, he said.”
Ral’s chest went tight. Already his mind was spinning, moving forward to the logical conclusion, fighting that painful truth, denying it with every beat of his heart.
“He… he promised to give me the land,” Geoffrey was saying. “He didn’t need it… and I did.”
“How?” Ral asked, though every fiber of his body begged him not to. “How did you know where we were headed?”
Geoffrey coughed harder, his body shaking, wheezing as he spit up a lungful of blood. “You… you must not blame her. My… fault, not hers.” The coughing expanded into deep wracking spasms. My… fault…” and then he was gone.
Ral stared down at him, cold hard fury pumping wildly through his veins, rough leather cutting into his palm as he clenched a gauntleted fist.
Not her fault—yours, Geoffrey. For being so young and handsome, for wooing her as I tried to do but failed. For convincing her to use her passion to get what she wanted, to pretend she had feelings…
For convincing her to betray me.
A fresh wave of fury rolled over him. Christ’s blood, what a fool he had been! The rage welled and grew, blotting his surroundings, blinding him to all but the knowledge that everything he had come to believe in, all of his dreams for the future, had just shriveled up and blown away.
