Chapter Fourteen #4
Du Reims shifted behind her and his enormous arm, the one across her neck, eased. “I did,” he said. “Okehampton Castle. My father is the Earl of East Anglia and Okehampton is an ally. At least, they used to be but like most of us in this war, friends one moment can be enemies the next.”
She sighed faintly. “I am not your enemy, Sir Knight.”
“My name is Rik.”
“And my name is Lady de Wolfe. I do not want to die. Please do not kill me.”
Isobeau heard the knight sigh. “I do not want to die, either,” he murmured. “I want to see my children grow up. I want to see their children born. I love my wife and children, my lady… I want to see them again and your husband has threatened to prevent that.”
Isobeau could feel the sorrow in his tone; there was great sadness there and great longing.
She truly felt a good deal of compassion for the man but she wondered, after this action, if Atticus would allow him to leave unassailed.
She doubted it. The man had laid his hands upon her and, by that action alone, forfeited his life.
The fact was that they both knew it. Therefore, his desperation was fed.
As she opened her mouth to reply, the big door to the hall opened and men were filtering in.
She couldn’t see who they were simply because the light behind them made them silhouettes, men with weapons and armor outlined in the backlighting.
But she knew, instinctively, that one of them was Atticus and as the men drew close, all three of them, she could see Atticus, Kenton, and Warenne on the approach.
Kenton seemed to hang back, to fan out behind them, but Atticus and Warenne approached boldly.
Isobeau looked into Atticus’ face, hope and relief and joy in her expression, but Atticus was focused solely on du Reims. He had yet to even look at her.
Without a word, he marched up on them, seated on the ground against the wall of the great hall, and lashed out a massive boot, kicking du Reims in his damaged legs.
The pain must have been horrendous because du Reims groaned, more than likely biting off a scream, and instinctively let go of Isobeau with his left hand, reaching down for his injured legs as if to hold them fast against Atticus’ assault.
But his inability to control his reaction to pain and Atticus’ advantage of a surprise attack had devastating consequences for du Reims. The moment he loosened his grip on Isobeau, Atticus reached down and yanked her forward, trying to break du Reims’ grip on her.
In the same motion, he thrust a nasty-looking dagger straight into du Reims’ neck, plunging it so deep that it came out the other side.
The man’s main artery was cut as well as his windpipe.
Dying, he fell over onto his side as Atticus pulled Isobeau completely free.
“Atticus, no!” Isobeau screamed. “Sweet Jesus, no!”
Atticus didn’t even look at her. Warenne was beside her now, holding her fast, because it seemed to him that she was trying to run to du Reims to somehow help the man.
But he was beyond help. Without thought or sympathy or regrets, Atticus removed the dagger in du Reims’ neck and plunged it again into his chest. With the heart of the big knight punctured, death was immediate.
The only sound now was that of Isobeau’s shocked weeping.
She stood in Warenne’s grip, her hand over her mouth as she looked with horror upon du Reims’ dead body.
It had happened so fast that she was still struggling to process it all.
But it was then, and only then, that Atticus seemed to notice her.
He looked her over closely, his gaze intense and still deadly.
“Did he hurt you?” he asked.
Isobeau looked at him, tears spilling over. “You did not have to kill him,” she wept. “He only wanted to go home to his wife and children.”
Atticus had absolutely no sympathy, not one ounce of pity or guilt for what he had done. In fact, Isobeau’s tears seemed to irritate him.
“And so he will not,” he said coldly. “He signed his death warrant the moment he touched you. What are you doing in the hall, anyway? I told you to stay to your chamber.”
Isobeau couldn’t stop the tears; they kept coming and coming. “I came to help,” she wept. “I came to help the physic tend the wounded. I was giving the knight water when he grabbed me. He… he only wanted to go home, Atticus. You did not have to kill him.”
Atticus’ gaze lingered on her for a moment longer before turning to Kenton, who was gazing down at du Reims’ bloodied body.
“Take him up to the wall,” he told Kenton. “Throw him over the side. They will see that Atticus de Wolfe keeps his word.”
Without hesitation, Kenton reached down to haul du Reims up.
Isobeau, unable to watch, took off running.
She heard Atticus call her name but she ignored him, bolting from the hall and running for the steps that led to the upper floor.
But she didn’t make it to the stairs before coming to a halt and vomiting into the mud in the middle of the bailey.
Overwrought, she wiped at her mouth and continued her trek towards the stairs but before she could reach them, someone grabbed her arm.
Startled, she turned to see Atticus. When she saw who it was, she yanked her arm away from him, brutally, and stumbled back, falling onto the first step behind her.
“Do not touch me,” she hissed. “Leave me alone!”