Chapter Forty-Four #3
Marcus was focused on the ridge of his blade. “It is none of your business.”
A bolt of fury shot though David at the evasive answer. “Then you just answered my question.”
Marcus glanced up at him, cocking a black eyebrow. “I did. I told you it was none of your affair, which it isn’t. What goes on between Dustin and me isn’t anyone’s concern.”
David’s nostrils flared angrily. “Then I was right all along; she was your whore. And Christin? She’s your daughter.”
Marcus kept his calm. “Dustin was never, ever my whore, David. And Christin is Chris’ daughter.”
“Did you bed her?” David roared, enunciating each word and they reverberated off the thick abbey walls.
Marcus raised his sword slowly, moving it into a defensive position. “I did.”
David was actually stumped at the short, precise answer. He had expected more denials, more maneuvering. But his shock was gone in a second, his fury returning tenfold.
“You bloody bastard,” he growled. “You filthy son of a bitch. How could you do that to Chris? He trusted you, goddammit. He trusted you!”
Marcus could see David’s pain more than his anger, and his own pain surfaced as well.
“It wasn’t that simple, David. When it happened…
Dustin did not even know it was me. She thought I was Chris and she took me into her bed,” his voice was a whisper.
“I am a weak man, David, not at all as perfect as our Defender was. I could have stopped it, but I did not. I wanted to. Aye, I freely admit it to you. I took advantage of the situation. Never blame Dustin, David, for she thought I was her husband. Are you satisfied now that you have a confession? I have simply given you more reason to kill me.”
David raised his sword, fighting back his considerable anger. If he lashed out and tired himself at the beginning, then Marcus would show no mercy and finish him off in his fatigue.
“I do not blame her,” he said. “I have never blamed her. She’s young and impressionable. But I fully blame you.”
“As you should.” Marcus gripped his sword with two hands on the hilt, preparing for the first strike. “You may try to kill me if you think you must, David. I am ready.”
David did not reply. Instead, he came hurtling down from the stairs and met Marcus with the force of his fury. Metal met on metal, screaming at the pressure and sparks flew into the damp air of the abbey.
Marcus was fully prepared for the onslaught, and for David’s fury.
A whole year of anger and resentment and jealousy was releasing itself.
David was faster than any man alive with a sword, but he could be reckless.
Marcus, however, was far more controlled and more powerful than his opponent.
It was dark in the abbey, working to neither man’s advantage as they plowed their way through pieces of old furniture and bounced off the walls.
David tripped at one point and staggered against the stone wall, narrowly averting being decapitated by Marcus as the big man descended on him with all of his might.
The clang of broadsword against broadsword echoed loudly and roused a few servants, who instantly panicked at the fight in the abbey and Richard was awakened from a deep sleep.
Angry as hell, the King of England grabbed his serrated broadsword and marched for the bowels of the abbey. He had no doubt as to who was doing the fighting.
*
Marcus and David stood before Richard in the grand hall, a few of the king’s officials surrounding the tired monarch as he glared back at his disobedient vassals.
He was so damn tired all he wanted to do was sleep, but instead, found himself breaking up a serious fight.
Had he not intervened when he did, David de Lohr would now be preparing for his burial.
“I know why you were fighting,” Richard said in a low voice.
“I need no explanation. And from what I am told, it was a long time in coming. But I will tell you this now; I will hear of no more fighting between you two. There is no one in this world I am at peace with, including my brother, and I shall not stand for any goddamn fighting within my own ranks. I should like there to be just one minute measure of stability in my life right now, gentle knights. I should like it to start with my loyal warriors, or I swear I shall take Lady Dustin with me and keep her at Windsor if you two cannot make peace with each other. Is that understood?”
Marcus and David nodded simultaneously. “Aye, sire.”
“Good,” Richard exclaimed, eyeing them both critically. “I will ask one thing, however; who started it?”
David piped up before Marcus could speak. “I did, sire. I sought Marcus out.”
“David, you know better than to cause trouble.” Richard jabbed his finger at him.
“Good Lord, you are just like your father. Hotheaded and aggressive. But I will tell you now, no more of it. Christopher, thank God, controlled himself better than most men and you should have learned from him. And Marcus; you are David’s superior officer.
You should not have responded to his challenge. ”
“I was given little choice, sire,” Marcus responded. “It was either defend myself or die.”
Richard shot David a withering look. “Get a hold of yourself, Sir Knight. Come to grips with your grief and the future will work itself out. It does not need your interference.”