Chapter Sixteen #2
Maddoc du Bois was a man who had inherited his father’s fighting skill.
He also carried dual swords like his father used to, and his father had been famous for them.
Maddoc managed to direct his horse with knee pressure alone, a very exacting skill, while the dual blades sailed through the air with deadly purpose, severing limbs and heads on occasion.
Stefan, fighting alongside his father, managed to kill a pair of mercenaries that were trying to yank his father from his steed – one man, he used his sword on but the other man had the misfortune of having his head nearly ripped off when Stefan grabbed the man by the hair.
It was a brutal battle as the du Bois men made short work of the mercenaries they encountered.
Maximus was in heavy fighting near the center of the battle.
He was encountering both mercenary and de Winter troops and trying very hard not to kill the de Winter men.
The sun had clouded over again and rain was beginning to fall and, at one point, he thought he caught a glimpse of a knight on horseback who then disappeared behind a group of mounted soldiers.
He didn’t think too much about it although he couldn’t help wondering where Davyss and even Garran were in all of this, because he was positive they were here. He just hadn’t seen them yet.
What Maximus didn’t know, however, was that someone with ill intent, had him in his sights.
The Thunder Warrior was his target.
*
Kellen had been watching for Maximus ever since he had heard that the Lords of Thunder had arrived in de Montfort’s camp.
He knew the man would stay close to de Montfort, and he had, but now in the midst of a battle, Maximus was somewhat on his own.
Tiberius and Gallus were fighting near him, as was usual with the de Shera brothers, but de Montfort was back in the trees with the second line of soldiers, letting his seasoned, battle commanders do most of the heavy fighting.
While Gallus and Tiberius engaged soldier after soldier, Maximus was going for the kill.
He had a nasty-looking sword with a jagged edge that he used to slice men’s heads from their bodies.
There were already several headless bodies around, a tribute to the man’s strength and skill.
But Kellen wasn’t concerned with that. He was simply concerned with making his way to Maximus and killing him in battle.
Death in battle was expected and Kellen was certain he could kill Maximus undetected.
There were hundreds of men around but no one was paying attention to him and, certainly, Maximus and his brothers and friends were busy with their own private battles.
Therefore, Kellen was certain he could accomplish what he had set out to do.
With a crossbow in his grip, he began to make his move towards Maximus.
There was no other way, of course. He’d tried everything to keep Courtly away from the man but she was acting more and more foolish.
He’d tried to send her home but she had run off, directly to Maximus, Kellen was sure.
He was equally sure that his daughter was completely under de Shera’s spell.
She was more than likely his whore. He’d tried so hard to prevent it but, in the end, the lure of Maximus has just been too strong for his weak-willed daughter.
Now, Kellen would take away her weakness. He would take away Maximus and then things would return to the way they were before the introduction of Maximus de Shera. Kellen would make sure of it.
*
Maximus has lost track of how many men he had killed, but he knew he was up in the dozens at this point.
Infantry was simply no match against a mounted knight.
Additionally, he had seen Bose de Moray on the outskirts of the battle, fighting against a group of Fitzgeoffrey men, and Maximus saw quite clearly when Garran intervened and helped his father chase off those he hadn’t killed.
It did Maximus’ heart good to see Garran, whole and healthy, and shortly thereafter, he saw Davyss fighting off a group of Fitzalan troops.
Davyss’ distinctive sword, named Lespada, the sword of his ancestors, gleamed in the weak light as the clouds gathered and the rain fell.
Davyss was a fearsome fighter and after Maximus dispatched a particularly aggressive Frenchman, he paused a moment to watch Davyss in action.
The man was impressive to watch. But his appreciation turned to concern when a Fitzalan man leapt onto the back of Davyss’ horse and grabbed Davyss around the neck.
The knight was at a distinct disadvantage from the way the man had grabbed him and Maximus knew that if he didn’t do something, Davyss would be in real trouble.
Removing a razor-sharp dagger from the folds of his armor, Maximus charged through the sea of fighting men, close enough to pull his horse to a halt and launch the dagger straight at the Fitzalan soldier.
The result was instantaneous. At about twenty feet, Maximus had planted the dagger into the neck of the soldier and the man fell back, toppling off the horse and landing heavily on the ground.
Davyss, regaining his balance, turned around with shock to see the man on the ground and a very fine knife hilt sticking out of his neck.
It was not the knife of a foot soldier. Lifting his eyes, Davyss saw Maximus several feet away.
When their gazes met, Maximus simply lifted a hand to Davyss and turned back around, returning to his corner of the battle, and Davyss knew at that moment that he owed Maximus his life.
The Thunder Warrior had used that fine dagger with great skill to save him.
More than that, it was a friend saving a friend no matter what side they fought on.
It would always be that way. With a faint smile, he resumed his battle.
Back in the midst of his fighting, Maximus was busy with a pair of de Winter soldiers who were trying to pull him off his warhorse.
The black and white jennet was very nasty in battle and gave one of the men a serious bite wound.
The horse had also managed to head-butt another man to the ground and proceeded to trample him.
As Maximus kicked a man in the head and engaged another in a fairly dangerous sword battle, he had no idea that Kellen was coming up behind him.
He had no idea that the man had his crossbow trained on him but hadn’t had a clear shot at him because of the mad boil of men between them.
When Maximus pitched forward to slug a man in the head who was grabbing for his horse’s reins, Kellen let his arrow fly a little too late and the arrow sailed over Maximus’ head.
Frustrated, Kellen reloaded and moved closer, but Maximus was still unaware.
He was too busy fighting more French mercenaries that were now ganging up on him.
As he used his feet, fists, and sword to fight them off, the thunder of hooves could be heard and Maximus looked up to see Bose de Moray bearing down on him.
The man had a crossbow aimed right at him and as Maximus lifted his sword to fend the man off and hopefully deflect the arrow, Bose let the arrow fly.
Maximus threw himself sideways in the saddle to avoid being struck and the arrow sailed right past him, missing him by a fairly wide berth.
It did, however, hit something behind Maximus because he heard the grunt as the arrowhead impacted flesh and bone.
Turning briefly to see who had been hit, Maximus was startled to see Kellen laying on the ground behind him, an arrow in his throat.
A crossbow was still clutched in his hand even though his life was rapidly slipping away as blood gurgled up out of his mouth.
Maximus stared at the man a moment before turning his astonished gaze to de Moray.
Bose was several feet away with his crossbow lowered. He pointed a gloved finger at Kellen. “I watched him as he tried to kill you once,” he told Maximus. “He shot an arrow at you but missed and he was reloading. I was not going to let him have a second shot at you.”
With that, he reined his horse around and thundered off, back into the midst of the fighting.
Stunned, Maximus didn’t have time to dwell on Kellen.
There was still too much fighting going on around him and he found himself swept up in the wave of battle, the surge of hand to hand combat where it was either kill or be killed.
He didn’t intend to be killed. His wife was already going to have to suffer through the death of her father now.
Maximus wouldn’t let her suffer through his death as well.
Thanks to de Moray, she wouldn’t have to.
The fighting went on into the night.