Chapter Twenty-Three #2
Suddenly, the yard was filling with men, including Hugo, who had command of the gatehouse because the other knights all seemed to be sleeping.
In fact, he’d had command of Brython since last night, since the beginning of that eventful feast. As he came into the yard and saw the carnage, he saw Asa standing over Amaro, who was trying desperately to escape the man.
As Hugo watched, Asa brought the sword down and planted it squarely in Amaro’s chest. The man collapsed, never to move again.
Having no idea what was happening, Hugo caught sight of Christin as she pushed herself off a wet and bloodied Lady Leominster. A few feet away lay Melusine, flat on her back, and as Asa ran to Melusine, Hugo ran to Christin.
“My God,” he said, absolutely horrified at what he was seeing. “Lady de Sherrington, what happened?”
Christin was close to panicking. “We came into the yard and Amaro was trying to drown Elle,” she said, her voice lifting in terror. “Hurry! Rouse Curtis! Rouse my father! We must get the ladies into the keep!”
Hugo turned to the soldiers who had crowded in behind him and gave them the commands to rouse the knights.
As the soldiers fled and the alarm was raised all over the castle, Hugo dropped to his knees beside Elle, who was only semiconscious.
A quick assessment of the dagger had him shaking his head at Christin.
“We need to get her into bed, where this can be removed,” he said. “If we remove it now, we risk having her bleed to death in front of us. I will take her!”
He scooped Elle into his arms with Christin’s help, and as he turned for the keep with an escort of frantic soldiers, Christin went to Asa as he held Melusine in his arms. The man was sobbing, rocking Melusine’s limp form back and forth.
“Asa, put her down,” Christin said urgently. “Let me see her. Asa, put her down!”
But Asa wouldn’t do it. He continued to hold her, tears and mucus running down his face. “He killed her,” he wept. “He killed her!”
Appalled, Christin had to forcibly pry Melusine away from him. She had a dagger sticking out of the center of her chest, right between her breasts. There was an enormous red bloom that radiated out from the dagger’s entry point, and Christin put her fingers to Melusine’s neck to feel for a pulse.
There was none.
Christin opened an eyelid to see that Melusine’s eyes were fixed. There was no movement. She felt for another pulse at her wrist and put her hand on the woman’s chest for any hint of breathing, but there was nothing.
Everything was still.
The realization that Melusine was dead swept Christin, and tears of shock came.
She slapped a hand over her mouth, looking at Asa as the man wept with grief.
Bold, brilliant, aggressive Asa, whom she’d known since he had been a boy, was suffering through something unspeakable.
She put her hand on the man’s head to comfort him, weeping with him, as Alexander burst though the yard gate.
Half dressed, as he’d just been yanked from his bed by anxious soldiers, he began bellowing for his wife.
“Christin!” he shouted. “Christin!”
“I am here,” Christin said, standing up so that he could see her. “Here, Sherry. I am here.”
Catching sight of her, Alexander rushed in her direction, throwing his arms around her when they finally came together.
For a brief moment, Christin gave in to his strength and warmth, because his arrival signified that she was safe.
After the terror of the past few minutes, she was finally, and truly, safe.
Alexander was here and nothing could hurt her, not ever.
“What in the hell happened?” Alexander said, finally releasing her long enough to clutch her head between his two big hands and look her in the eye. “What is going on?”
Now that the fight for her life was over, Christin was trying desperately not to weep.
“It was Amaro,” she said. “When Melusine and I came into the yard, he was trying to drown Elle in the laundry basin. I stopped him from killing her, but he began producing daggers and throwing them. He struck Melusine and Elle, but Asa came before he could throw one at me. Asa killed him.”
Alexander still wasn’t over his terror. His heart was beating so fast he thought it might beat right out of his chest. “Amaro?” he said incredulously. “De Laraga?”
“Aye.”
“But he was at Lioncross,” Alexander said, baffled. “At least, he was supposed to be.”
Christin shook her head. “He was here,” she said, gesturing to Amaro’s body several feet away. “I do not know how he got here, but he was here and he was trying to kill Elle. Sherry, he killed Melusine. She’s dead.”
As she said that, Asa suddenly stood up. He was gasping like a madman, weeping and hysterical, and he staggered over to Amaro, pulled his sword out of the man’s chest, and began stabbing him again and again. As those in the kitchen yard watched, Asa cut Amaro’s body to pieces in his grief.
It was a heartbreaking sight.
“God,” Alexander muttered, watching a man’s agony play out. “My God, the poor man.”
Christin was watching as well, softly weeping. “What do we do?”
Alexander shook his head and turned away. “Leave him,” he said. “If there is any justice in this world, he is dispensing it. Let him do what he needs to do.”
Christin simply nodded, wiping at her eyes as she turned to look at Melusine.
Other than the massive red stain on her chest and the dagger sticking out, she looked as if she were sleeping.
It was tragic in so many ways. Silently, Christin knelt down beside the woman, gazing at her still face for a moment before smoothing back her hair and kissing her on the forehead.
“I am sorry, my love,” she whispered. “So very sorry. But you needn’t worry—we will take good care of Asa for you. And Elle. You may rest well, darling, I promise.”
With that, she took hold of the dagger and yanked it free of Melusine’s chest, handing it to Alexander when he knelt down beside her.
“She seemed like a sweet lass,” Christin whispered tightly. “I did not know her well, but I know that she spent the last few moments of her life trying to help someone who was in danger. That is a brave ending, Sherry. It is a warrior’s ending.”
Alexander nodded sadly. “It is, my love,” he agreed softly. “Very brave, indeed.”
“Make sure Asa knows that. I am not sure I can tell him.”
“I will.”
Christin’s gaze lingered sadly on Melusine for a moment longer before she turned away.
“I must go to Elle now,” she said bravely, trying desperately to focus on the living and not the dead.
“Curtis may need my help. Will you stay with Melusine and see she is taken care of? She must be well tended, Sherry. Please see to that. Be gentle with her.”
He nodded, kissing her temple and helping her to stand.
As Christin headed from the kitchen yard, Alexander sent men to collect something soft to wrap Melusine in as Asa continued to carve up Amaro.
If anyone understood that kind of raw and horrible grief, it was Alexander.
He’d seen much of it in his lifetime. But when Asa had exhausted himself and Amaro was in several different pieces, he returned to Melusine, took her in his arms, and stayed there for the rest of the day.
For moral support, and to show respect to a woman who had died trying to save Lady Leominster, so did Alexander.