Chapter Two #2
With that, Tiberius kicked out a massive boot and hit de Beckett directly in the chest, sending the man flying backwards.
De Beckett hadn’t yet hit the ground by the time Tiberius was already halfway up the stairs, running for the last door on the left.
He could hear de Beckett yelling behind him and he knew, instinctively, that the man would follow.
He had to get to de Moray’s daughter before de Beckett did.
The small corridor on the second floor leaned slightly to the left and smelled like a sewer. Tiberius raced to the last door on the left, a rather thin panel, and beat on it.
“Lady Douglass?” he called. “Your father has sent me, my lady. Please open the door!”
There was no response. Frustrated, Tiberius beat on it again, rattling the latch this time, but before he could yell again, de Beckett appeared in the corridor and Tiberius turned to the man, running at him as hard and as fast as he could.
De Beckett tried to brace himself but Tiberius hit him like a runaway bull and the knight flipped over the railing and fell to the common room below, crashing onto a table before hitting the hard-packed earth of the floor.
The table was enough to break his fall but Tiberius didn’t stick around to see if the knight had been seriously injured or not. He had to get to de Moray’s daughter.
He raced back to the panel, pounding on it and calling the lady’s name. He lifted the latch, positive it would be locked, and was shocked to realize that it wasn’t. Giving the door a good shove, he stepped into the room and was greeted by a sharp pain to his head and a burst of stars in his vision.
Something heavy had hit him and Tiberius fell to his knees as another blow cracked him across the back of the head. Pitching face-first onto the floor, he grunted in pain and shock as someone jumped on top of him and began beating him around the head and shoulders.
“You brute!” a female voice seethed. “You’ll not take me, do you hear? I will mash you into a pulp!”
Dazed, Tiberius put up his hands, grabbing at the weapon the woman was using. “Lady,” he tried to get the words out before she smacked him in the mouth and knocked out his teeth. “I am Tiberius de Shera. Your father sent me, I swear it!”
The beating slowed to a halt but she was still standing on top of him. He could feel a foot against the back of his neck.
“How do I know this is true?” she demanded. “De Montfort’s men have been following us since last night. Prove to me that you are not the bastards who have been following us!”
Tiberius grunted. “Look at my tunic, you silly wench,” he groaned. “It has the de Shera emblem. How much more proof do you need?”
The woman removed her foot from his neck. “I do not know the de Shera emblem on sight,” she said. “Quickly, what is my brother’s name?”
Tiberius didn’t roll over, afraid she would start whacking him again. “His name is Garran,” he replied. “Your mother’s name is Summer and your father’s name is Bose. You have two younger sisters, as I recall, Lizbeth and Sable.”
The woman seemed to stew in confusion. “That is true,” she finally said. “But that proves nothing. You could have heard that anywhere.”
He sighed drolly. “Then if that is your logic, why did you ask me your brother’s name?”
That threw her into deeper confusion and Tiberius took advantage of it.
He didn’t have any more time to waste. Quick as a flash, he rolled onto his back and used his big legs to knock her off her feet, sweeping her right to the floor.
The woman fell heavily and the piece of wood she had been using to assault him flew from her hands and rolled under the bed.
Sitting up swiftly, Tiberius reached out and grabbed both of her arms before she could rise, effectively trapping her on the floor.
Now he was the one with the advantage, looming over her.
“My name is Tiberius de Shera, Lord Lockhurst,” he said, his green eyes drilling into her.
“My brother is the Earl of Coventry and your brother, Garran, is one of my very best friends. I am here to save you from de Montfort’s assassins and I do not have any more time for your foolery.
Behave yourself or I will take you over my knee. Is that clear?”
Lady Douglass Lora de Moray gazed up at Tiberius with a mixture of fear and resentment.
She was a striking woman with cascades of golden-red curls, a mass of shockingly beautiful, red hair and her father’s black eyes.
Her skin was perfect and pale, without the freckles that redheads usually had, and she had a face that was better suited to that of an angel; smooth and porcelain and sweet in every way.
But the expression on her face was anything but sweet as she faced off against Tiberius.
She was a daughter of de Moray, after all, and she had strength in her.
Lifting a booted foot, she kicked Tiberius in the gut. Grunting, he fell off of her.
“You will not threaten me,” she scolded, frantically searching for her wooden club that had rolled under the bed. “We have been chased since last night by men intent to do us great harm and I have no idea if you are really Tiberius de Shera. I have never met him!”
Tiberius was on his knees, rubbing his belly with a furious expression on his face. “You are meeting him now,” he said. Then, a hand shot out and grabbed her again, pulling her face-first onto the floor. “Now, meet the palm of my hand as it blisters your backside!”
He managed to get the first lick in and Douglass howled angrily, trying to move away from him, but as he brought his hand up again, he realized that de Beckett was standing in the doorway, watching everything.
In an instant, his focus shifted and he leapt to his feet, slamming the door in de Beckett’s face and throwing the bolt.
He pressed himself back against the door as de Beckett and his men tried to kick it down.
“You… you fiend!” Douglass hurled insults at him. “How dare you strike me!”