Chapter Twenty-Two #2
Still, it was ominous and violent out in the bailey.
She and Izlyn continued to watch as men fought, and men died, and somewhere in the process of watching, she realized that men were coming away from the gatehouse, rushing over towards the kitchen yard, which she couldn’t quite see because it was just out of her line of sight.
In fact, she could see Rhys coming out of the stable yards, moving for the kitchen as well, followed shortly by Gart, his big bald head reflecting what little light there was.
All of them seemed to be heading towards the kitchens but they stopped just short of the kitchen yard.
Everyone seemed to be hovering, waiting and watching, and Chrystobel had no idea what they were looking at, but whatever it was certainly had their attention.
In fact, they were now starting to turn towards the keep.
She could clearly see the movement of their directional focus.
Curious, she strained to catch a glimpse of what they were looking at.
Then, through the rain and wind, she heard something.
Someone was yelling at the door of the keep. It was a loud, angry bellow. Concerned, she climbed down off the window sill.
“Someone is at the door,” she told Izlyn. “I must see who it is.”
Izlyn scampered after her, following her sister as they moved to the master’s chamber where there was a window that had a much better view of the keep entry.
Chrystobel moved a stool next to the window, which was a bit tall for her, and stood on it, looking down at the entry. What she saw startled her to the bone.
Her eyes widened at the sight of Gryffyn holding a knife to Keller’s throat.
Gryffyn had Keller by the hair, the dagger aimed just beneath Keller’s right ear.
It was Chrystobel’s worst nightmare and she shrieked, drawing Gryffyn and Keller’s attention upward.
They both saw her in the window. Keller was the first one to yell to her.
“Do not open the door!” he boomed.
Chrystobel burst into tears as Gryffyn kicked Keller in the back, causing the man a good deal of pain. Gryffyn yelled up at her.
“If you want your husband to live, you will open the door,” he shouted. “Do you hear me? Open this door or your husband will die!”
Chrystobel staggered away from the window, toppled off the stool, and fell to the ground. Izlyn ran forward to help her sobbing sister, but Chrystobel was nearly hysterical. Izlyn, unable to get a coherent word from her sister, thrust herself up into the window, gazing down on the horrible scene.
Gryffyn yelled at her, too, as Keller bellowed in unison.
One was telling her to open the door while the other one was telling her to keep it bolted.
Gryffyn was so frustrated that he nicked Keller’s neck with the dagger, causing bright red blood to pour.
Izlyn watched, her eyes as wide as trenchers, as Rhys and Gart and William tried to move up behind Gryffyn.
The English knights were stalking him but Gryffyn saw them coming and made a point of turning Keller around so they could see the blood flowing from the man’s neck.
With the knights focused on Keller and Gryffyn, one of the Welsh rebels managed come up behind Wellesbourne and nick him in the torso with a short Welsh blade.
It would have been worse had William not seen the man move from the corner of his eye.
As it was, he had a few seconds to move away and attempt to defend himself.
Bedlam followed as more Welsh moved upon the knights and soon the three of them found themselves in serious combat as Gryffyn held Keller at knifepoint at the keep entry. In the bailey of Nether, chaos and terror reigned.
Izlyn fell out of the window much the way her sister had, shocked and horrified at what she had seen. She looked at Chrystobel, who was now picking herself up off of the floor. Chrystobel, in fact, seemed to be calming a great deal as she reached out to grasp her sister.
Chrystobel’s face was pale, her hands shaking, but her expression was something Izlyn had never seen before.
There was an intensity beyond anything Izlyn believed her sister to be capable of.
Somehow, someway, Chrystobel had calmed herself to the broad point of determination.
Hysterics would not save Keller. She had to keep her head about her if she was going to be of any use.
With that in mind, Chrystobel focused on Izlyn.
“Listen to me, Izzie,” she said, grabbing her sister by both arms. “Gryffyn is here. Did you see him?”
Izlyn nodded, terrified. “There is… blood.”
Chrystobel couldn’t think about that. All she could focus on doing what was necessary to save their lives. That is what it came down to now; her survival, or Gryffyn’s. She had to make sure it would not be Gryffyn.
“He will kill Keller if we do not open the keep to him,” she said to Izlyn. “But the only reason he wants to come inside the keep is to get to you and to get to me. He wants to kill us. Do you understand?”
Izlyn nodded fearfully, her eyes welling, but Chrystobel shook her gently.
“Nay,” Chrystobel said firmly. “No tears. We do not have time. We cannot be afraid anymore. We must save Keller and we must kill Gryffyn. We have no choice. All of those years that he beat us, we never fought back, but tonight that will change. Tonight, we must fight back. If we do not, all of our happiness will be destroyed. We will be destroyed, and I am not ready yet to die. Are you?”
Izlyn shook her head. “N-nay,” she whispered.
Chrystobel drew in a long, fortifying breath, thinking of what had to happen.
The time had come for her to save herself, her husband, and her sister, and she would not fail.
It was time for her to take a stand against a man who had spent most of his life beating on helpless women, knowing they wouldn’t fight back.
Tonight, all of that would change. They had no choice if they were going to survive.
“Listen to me, Izzie,” Chrystobel said, cupping her sister’s face with her hands. “I know you are frightened. I am frightened, too, but we must do this to save ourselves and to save Keller. I will not allow Gryffyn to terrorize us any longer. It is time we fight back.”
Izlyn nodded again, her tears fading somewhat. It was clear that she was trying very hard to be brave. “What… what should I do?”
Chrystobel thought a moment. She’d never had to do this kind of thing before.
She didn’t think like a killer, but for the moment, she had to.
She had to do something exceedingly final, something that would rid her of her brother forever.
As she took her sister’s hand and headed for the chamber door, her gaze fell on a big iron sconce, about four feet tall, with great spikes on the end to hold the tapers with.
She remembered using a similar weapon at the church on the day they had gone to bury her father, using the wax and candles against men who were attacking her husband.
Dropping her sister’s hand, she raced for the sconce and removed the tapers, revealing five inch long iron teeth, sharp as daggers.
She headed down to the first level below with the sconce in hand and deadly intentions on her mind.
She had a plan.
*
Keller knew he was in a bad way the moment someone grabbed his hair and pulled him off the muddy ground. Dazed, his ears were ringing and the world was rocking slightly, and he felt something very sharp against the side of his neck. The next voice he heard in his ear was not unexpected.
“Greetings, de Poyer,” Gryffyn said. “It seems that we were destined to meet again under somewhat violent circumstances.”
Keller’s heart sank when he realized who had him. He was also quite furious. “Damn you, d’Einen,” he snarled. “Release me immediately.”
Gryffyn laughed, although it was not a humorous laugh. “Hardly,” he said. “If the situation was reversed, would you release me?”
“If the situation was reversed, I would have killed you by now.”
Gryffyn’s smile faded. “That was my first thought, also,” he said. “But I want something and I suspect I will not get it unless I use you as a bargaining tool.”
Keller didn’t even have to ask what Gryffyn wanted.
That was abundantly clear. But he sought to distract the man, anything to help him gain the upper hand.
Threatening d’Einen wouldn’t work because, clearly, the man had the advantage.
Therefore, Keller had to resort to another tactic.
He had to stall enough to disorient or confuse the man.
Then, maybe he would have a chance to turn the tables.
At the moment, he couldn’t think of anything else to do.
“What is this obsession you have with your sisters?” Keller demanded. “By God’s Bloody Rood, d’Einen… what is this sick fixation you have for them? Why breach an entire castle to get to them?”
Gryffyn yanked on Keller’s dark hair. “Because they are mine,” he growled. “They belong to me, as does this castle. It all belongs to me and you stole it!”
“I saved it from you.”
“It is mine!” he shrieked. “You have no right to it!”
Keller could see that he had Gryffyn off-balance. He pushed. “With you here, Nether was indeed a living hell,” he said. “You made it a Netherworld in every sense of the word. This place is much better off without you and your brutal ways.”
Gryffyn growled, coming out something of a yell.
He began to half-shove, half-drag Keller in the direction of the keep.
As the rain pattered and the thunder rumbled, they made their way across the bailey but Keller wasn’t going willingly.
He slipped more than once, purposely falling to his knees, buying time until one of his men could gain sight of him and figure out something was wrong.
At one point he even fell to his belly and Gryffyn yanked viciously on his hair until he labored to his knees, standing wearily.