Chapter 46
Right here! Ten frigging steps from the king!
If panic could create a storm, the chamber would have flooded.
Nella looked at Callum. The fright must have registered in her eyes as his hand tightened on his sword’s hilt till his knuckles blanched.
His eyes glanced at Sir Nathrach then back at her, and she inclined her brow a mere speck. Aye, Callum, it is him!
Callum turned toward the doorway, intentionally blocking the opening with his body so the traitor could not bolt past.
“Sir Nathrach.” Callum raised his free palm outward. “Walk with me to welcome our fresh guests into the bailey.”
The king began striding for the doorway. No, no!
She dashed before him. “My lord king, may I have but one more word with you?”
“How dare you.” Lord Chancellor’s spittle almost hit her chin by his outraged hiss. “Never speak to our lord king before he engages with you first! You forget yourself already, my lady—”
The king raised his hand, halting the chancellor’s rant while Callum ordered beside her, “Sir Nathrach, step lively, lest we make the delegation wait.”
“Sir Callum!” Holger bellowed, not now Northman. “Are you trying to take my position as well? I am to greet them first and foremost.” The Northman pushed his way past, his nose the highest part of himself.
“By all means, Lord Kolson,” Callum ground out then finished, “Flank me, Sir Nathrach. Alec, stand guard – like Largs.”
Like Largs? Alec stiffened as if a silent message had passed between them before the youngest MacCade nodded. Largs was a siege so it must have been a concealed word in warning.
“What is it you wish to convey, Lady Fawnella?” the king inquired patiently.
At the sight of her knight’s broad shoulders leaving the doorway, her world stopped a breath in time. Would she see him again? How skilled was this Sir Nathrach with a sword if it turned violent?
Soon as Callum left, Alec lunged for the door, threw it closed, secured the latch, then layered a board over as an extra gatekeeper as well.
The king’s tone turned grave. “What is amiss?”
“The third traitor,” Nella answered, abandoning all protocol in meeting the sovereign’s eyes while she spoke.
She could not pry her gaze from the timber filled with knots same as her stomach.
Even if Saint Andrew appeared before her, she wouldn’t have looked away.
Perhaps she had been too hasty in wishing to remain, watching her knight vanish into the folds of danger at every turn.
“YOU WILL NOT TAKE ME, SIR CALLUM!”
The words by Sir Nathrach slapped her attention back into the present before the sound by steel began raging outside.
“Callum,” she whimpered, her feet charging for the door blindly before a thick arm snared her waist from behind.
“My lady,” Alec whispered in her ear even as steel battling through the passage tore her heart into pieces, “he would not have vanished out that door if he knew he would never see you once again. My brother is strong with the blade.”
Tears streamed her cheeks. “Alec, he is, but his want to protect is stronger and I fear it shall be his demise.”
“Sir Lesly,” Callum roared, “summon the remainder in guards! Sir Sean, secure the king’s chambers!”
Nella tilted her skull, sharpening her prowess.
“You think you can best me, Captain?” Sir Nathrach taunted in a voice only Callum and she could hear.
“I am the finest in this castle with the blade. The passageway is narrow; only one spar at a time. Once I cut you down, Captain, your simpering Sir Sean be next, then the Northern lord. You shall all fall. The king awaits, as does that Lady Fawnella who must have revealed our plan.”
Crack!
The steel clashed as Callum gave a Gaelic battle cry. The clapping by blades echoing same as a ship’s sails snapping in a tempest rumbled outside.
“Nella,” Callum summoned in a raspy whisper, “I have not waited all this time to have fate cast us asunder.” She stared at the door as the wood turned into a greater blur when a sob clutched her throat. “This traitor will not steal our second chance.”
Thwack! Knuckles hitting bone.
Crash! Pottery smashing onto the granite floor.
Focus with all you are. She closed her eyes – hard.
Thump. Thump. That was the sound signature from the muscled weight which was her Callum’s feet stepping on the floor outside.
Whoosh. No, what was the noise? Slice. Swords. The blades were slicing through the air; one had to be trying to strike another down as the other dodged away.
Huff, huff – had to be both fighters panting for air from exertion.
Shuffle, shuffle. No, that was not Callum’s sound signature in a step, but the shuffler was moving briskly away from her knight. It had to be the sound signature from the traitor’s feet. Sir Nathrach was retreating, and quick!
FINISH HIM, CALLUM!
“AYE, NELLA!” her knight roared.
Wait, had she shouted her demand out loud?
“You have him, Scotsman!” Holger hollered before a gurgle defended the silence for her.
If eternity had turned into the span of a mere moment, this was it. Her breath held. Callum?
“Nella… ’tis safe to release the door.” The reason to breathe spoke once more.