Chapter Twenty-Three #2
Robert seemed to calm a great deal with that knowledge. Diamantha was loved, Sophie had her pets, and George was well. Those were the only people in the world he cared about. He was a content man.
“Thank you, Cortez,” he said. “Thank you for taking care of my family. I am at peace knowing they are well cared for. You have given me the greatest gift of all and I am more grateful than you will ever know.”
Cortez couldn’t respond. He was too overwrought to show any measure of generosity towards the man. He was crushed. Still, he knew it wasn’t Robert’s fault, any of it. He sighed heavily.
“Mayhap you should let Diamantha decide what she wants to do with her life,” he finally said. “This is her choice, after all. You cannot make it for her and neither can I. She will want to see you, you know.”
Robert’s gaze was surprisingly steady. “Then you really are going to tell her?” he asked. “You will not change your mind?”
Cortez exhaled sharply. “I told you that I will not keep this from her,” he said. “If she ever found out, she would hate me forever. It would not be fair to all concerned.”
Robert didn’t say anything. He simply looked at Cortez, seeing how utterly distraught the man was. It was clear that he was hurting badly. Robert was hurting badly, but not for the same reasons. It was time to finish what that Scots archer had started those months ago.
It was time to go home.
“Embrace me,” Robert said, holding up his arms to Cortez. “Before you go, please… embrace me. Let me feel your strength one last time, as you held me upon the fields of Falkirk and called me Brother.”
Cortez looked at the man. He didn’t want to hug him but the moment he did, his guard went down and the tears came again.
He could feel how weak and tired the man was simply by his embrace.
He had no way of knowing it was a ruse, for the moment Cortez’s guard went down and he hugged Robert tightly, Robert grabbed the small dirk had had seen nestled in the belt at Cortez’s waist. Before anyone realized what had happened, Robert took the blade and plunged it deep into his chest, straight into his heart. He was dead in an instant.
Cortez realized something was wrong soon enough.
He felt Robert’s hand at his waist and before he could move, Robert grabbed the dagger and plunged in into his chest. Cortez screamed out in anguish, as did Keir and Michael, who had witnessed Robert grab the blade but were too far away to stop him.
As Robert collapsed back onto his bed, bleeding out, Cortez stood over him and roared.
“Nay!” he cried. “Robert, no! You cannot do this! Dear God, no!”
Michael and Keir rushed at Robert, removing the blade and watching bright red blood run out all over him.
They felt for a pulse, checked his eyes, but it was clear that the man was very dead.
They looked at each other, at Cortez, with open grief on their faces.
Cortez, however, stumbled back and collapsed against the wall behind him. It was too much to take.
“My dagger,” he breathed. “He used my dagger to kill himself. My dagger. When I tell Diamantha we found him alive, she will think… she will think I killed him with my dagger!”
Keir went to him, falling to his knees beside him.
“Nay, she will not,” he assured him, “because you are not going to tell her anything. Think, Cortez, what good will it do her? She will have mourned for him twice! Let her remember him as he was. That is what Robert wanted, why he took your dagger to his chest. You must never tell Diamantha about this, do you hear me? She does not need to know!”
Cortez looked at Keir, hearing his words of wisdom through his overwrought mind.
It made a good deal of sense. The righteous part of him was determined to tell Diamantha everything but the reasoning part, the part that was so capable of mercy, agreed with Keir.
It would do Diamantha more harm than good to know what had truly happened to Robert.
She had already mourned for the man and to tell her of this event would undo all of the healing.
It would hurt her more than help her, and he simply couldn’t do that to her. Not when he loved her so.
“Nay,” he finally whispered. “I will not tell her. She does not need to know. Let her remember Robert as he was.”
Vastly relieved, Keir pulled Cortez off the ground and they both stood there for a moment, gazing at Robert’s body. It was a sad sight, but in a sense, it was a comforting one, for one very good reason.
“He is free now,” Cortez said softly. “He is truly free.”
The other knights began to gather around, their attention on Robert’s corpse.
Whether or not they agreed with Robert’s actions, they understood why he did what he did.
Not only did he do it to spare Diamantha future anguish, but he did it to save himself.
The man had control of his life taken away those months ago by a Scot’s arrow.
Today, he took control back. As Cortez said, he was finally free.
Robert Edlington’s body would make the trip back to Corfe, after all.