Page 80 of The Consolation Prize

“It is him!” Otho breathed in disbelief. “It’s Waleran. He’s taken them hostage up there.”

Armand froze on the fourth or fifth step up. He could see Una holding out her hands palm up as she tried to remonstrate with the bastard. What the fuck was she doing? He felt his throat constrict and gave an agonized groan. Even worse, she kept trying to step protectively in front of Rose. He ground his teeth, refusing to let these charades distract him from his pale wife. He focused on Una as if the force of gaze from his eyes alone could keep her standing upright instead of plummeting like a stone from the ramparts.

Armand felt the fear settle like a pit of dread in his stomach. He was going to fucking lose her. And she didn’t even know, didn’t have a fucking clue how he felt … A hand clutched at his shoulder. Otho was stood on the step beside him. “Una is a sensible lass,” he heard Otho murmur desperately. “She’ll keep her head.” He was right. Una would keep her head in a crisis. But she would not put herself first. She never did.

Armand’s gaze swept up the crumbling flight again as he furiously estimated how long it would take him to reach the top, but he knew he wouldn’t stand a chance of interception. She was going to fall. He knew it in his heart of hearts. It was his punishment for not appreciating her until it was too damn late. He felt sick to his soul. Terrified. He realized he’d never even known true fear in his life, until this moment.

He stared up at her, desperately trying to will her to have some fucking sense and not incite her crazed brother. He muttered an involuntary oath as the two women suddenly huddled together, seemingly trying to crane as far from Waleran as possible. The bastard flung back his head and laughed. There were only three walls fully intact of the small chamber, so you could see the three of them clearly outlined against the grey stone where a torch flickered from the sconce.

Waleran held out a hand, as though asking one of them to dance. Both Una and Rose shrank back. Then Una was speaking again, and Armand advanced a few more steps, his mouth drawn into a grim line as Waleran’s attention was focused on his sister. Then it looked as though Rose had said something, for his attention turned to her.

Waleran looked to be ranting at both of them in turn. It looked like they were arguing or interrupting him for he flung out a hand in frustration. In truth, Armand couldn’t tell which one of them was mouthing off, but he felt sick with fear it might be Una. Keep your goddamn mouth shut woman, he raged inwardly, as he heard Walker’s footfall behind him. Glancing back in warning, Armand saw the man held a bow and arrow. “Can you reach him with your bow?” Armand asked hoarsely.

Walker paused sizing the situation up. “Not without risk to the two women,” he admitted.

Armand cursed under his breath, climbing further as the women now had their abductor’s sole focus. He kept low and close to the wall.

Una was speaking again and though Armand could not hear her words, he could tell her tone was both reasonable and measured. Waleran looked to be grinding his teeth with frustration, and he clapped both his hands to his head in a sudden fury. Armand froze and Rose stepped swiftly forward, thrust out both her arms and gave a mighty shove to their assailant.

Waleran’s mouth opened wide in a silent shriek and his arms wind-milled as he found himself suddenly stepping back and treading thin air. His footing lost, he made a wild grab for her but went sailing over the edge. For a horrifying moment, it looked like Rose’s momentum would carry her over as well, but Una lunged forward and caught her about her waist, dragging her back onto the ledge. Both women collapsed onto their backsides and Armand found he could suddenly breathe.

“Ro-se!” cried Otho brokenly some ten steps or so behind. It sounded as if her name had burst involuntarily from his lips.

“Sweet lord,” murmured Walker who was somehow close behind him now. “Did you see that?”

A dull heavy thud behind them heralded the would-be assassin’s ignominious landing on the ground. Ignoring the muffled shrieks below, Armand kept his eyes trained on the red figure, never looking away as he clenched his jaw.

“Stay where you are, Una,” he called tightly, as he closed the gap between them. He turned back seeing some of his men starting toward the staircase. “No more on the steps!” he ordered. “It is not fit for the weight of so many!” He saw them turn back and go instead to inspect the body that had fallen to one side of the tower.

Una and Rose were both sat now with their backs to the remaining wall. Una looked very pale. Armand found he could not tear his eyes from her face to check on Rose. Otho was here for her anyway. He took the steps two at a time and the higher he climbed, the more his fear receded. It was swiftly replaced with a burning anger that gnawed at his guts and left a nasty taste in his mouth.

He couldn’t take it out on that bastard Waleran, so that left only one recipient for his wrath. His wife. What the bloody hell did she think she was doing prancing around up there, risking life and limb and nearly giving him some kind of seizure?

“I’ll remain here,” Walker said loudly. “In case you should need another pair of hands if one of them should swoon.”

And then, with another few steps, Armand was at the top. He stepped onto the stone platform and reached down to grab Una by her elbows, pulling her upright. “Come to me,” he said roughly, and she came.

“Rose,” she said, trying to turn back.

“Otho is behind me. He will help Rose down.”

“Did you hear that, Rose? Do not stir a step,” Una said admonishing the maid.

Armand’s arm about her waist propelled her forward. “Watch your step, here,” he ground out. “It’s uneven.”

“I know. I would have stumbled if not for Rose. She is as sure-footed as a goat.”

He ignored this, pushing her flat against the wall as Otho reached their step. He braced himself in case her brother dared to try and snatch her from him. Instead, Otho merely reached out a hand to squeeze Una’s shoulder. She patted his hand.

“I’m fine, Otho,” she reassured him. “You go and fetch Rose down.” Her brother nodded and advanced to the top. Armand heard him rumble something but did not catch the words.

Rose’s voice carried down to them clearly. “He was a bad man,” she said mutinously. “He kicked Abelard.”

Una made a choked sound. “He wanted us to die together,” she said wonderingly. “As some sort of grand gesture.”

Armand did not answer, could not. “No fainting,” he called down to Walker, who was waiting at the midway point. “You go down and we’ll follow.”

Glancing back up he saw that Otho was still crouched beside Rose, as though talking some sense into her. Perhaps he did not want to risk all of them on the steps at the same time. Armand kept his grip on Una’s waist. They followed Walker’s descent cautiously, five steps or so behind him at any given time.