Page 74 of Rogue Knight
“For Inga and the innocents!” he cried and swung his blade, striking Eude’s raised sword in a bone-shattering clash of metal.
Eude lumbered away then lunged.
Geoff deflected the long blade, so like his own. The clash of metal against metal filled the air as each sought mastery over the other.
To his right, Alain grunted as his sword met Murdac’s blade in a rapid exchange.
Minutes passed as the four swords vied for control in the clash of well-trained knights. But this was no swordplay; this was a fight to the death. One Geoff welcomed to avenge the innocents in York.
Eude was tiring, his swings slowing, becoming less precise. Geoff backed up, feigning his own fatigue, luring Eude into the trap his mind had been conceiving as he’d made note of Eude’s weaknesses.
In his arrogance, Eude lunged again but his swing was too wide, leaving his midsection vulnerable.
Geoff swung the broad side of his sword into Eude’s ribs.
With a groan, Eude stumbled to the side. At that moment, Geoff eyed Eude’s unprotected neck and swung. Blood spurted from Eude’s neck and his eyes went wide as he fell to his knees and then to his face, his blood turning the snow-dusted ground crimson.
Heaving a sigh of relief, Geoff wiped his blade on Eude’s back. It was over.
A side-glance at Alain revealed the huge knight standing over the body of Murdac. “Seems to me you toyed overlong with the refuse.”
Geoff chuckled at Alain’s humor. “At least the job is done.”
Ottar ran to Geoff and he embraced the boy. “You are safe now.”
“You were magnificent!” Ottar said, looking up at Geoff in wonder.
“Nay, Ottar. ’Tis a knight’s duty I did, nothing more.”
“Someday I will be a knight,” he proudly proclaimed.
The boy was older than Geoff when he had become a page. He would not discourage him. “Aye, someday you will. Be an honorable one. Not like these.” Geoff had crossed a line in killing William’s knights. He could argue he had done so to save the boy, yet he knew it was more. He resented corrupt knights like Eude who betrayed their oath, making the king’s mission more difficult by raising the ire of the people.
Over Ottar’s head, Geoff saw the other knights and Mathieu approaching, their swords now sheathed. Artur stood close by, waiting.
Without being asked, Mathieu collected the dead knights’ swords and helms. “We can add them to the armory.”
“I would have done the same, Sir Geoffroi,” said one of the knights who had ridden with him that day. “There have been too many innocents killed.”
“I agree,” said another. “I will say nothing of this encounter.”
Grateful for their support, Geoff dismissed the three other knights to return to the castle. “The day’s business is done. I will join you later.”
Since he had entered the clearing and seen Ottar and the servant, Geoff had known the slain Northumbrian rebels must have been guarding Emma’s family. He looked into Ottar’s dark eyes and asked the question that had been screaming in his mind. “Where is Emma?”
Ottar’s expression grew sullen. “She is in the cave, sick.”
The word “cave” immediately caused Geoff’s heart to speed. Sweat broke out on his forehead as he remembered a rocky hillside and a chamber so black it inhaled light. Where the only sounds were those of dripping water and animals scurrying in the dark. Where as a boy Ottar’s age his brothers had left him for three days until he was starving and nearly out of his mind.
As he stood there, frozen with the image of the cave in his mind, Artur spoke beside him. “Sir Geoffroi, we owe you our lives.”
“Artur,” Geoff managed to say with difficulty, “…your mistress?”
“Emma is unwell. She burns with fever. The lad and I were gathering herbs for Sigga to make potions for her.” He gestured to a small sack lying at the edge of the clearing.
Emma so close. “Is the cave far?”
“Nay,” said Artur.
