88. Now Cresset
NOW: CRESSET
All of us were temporarily blinded by the sudden glare of torches, but when we had blinked away the spots in our eyes, we saw that we were barred from the second door in the city wall.
“Get behind me and Evangeline,” Reed instructed, his manner somehow still in repose. He stepped to the front of our gathering next to me and his sister.
Before us, Father Starling stood, arms crossed and smiling.
He, as always, wore his plain long tunic over trousers with his red-and-silver sash pinned to his chest. But, with the torchlights dancing behind his tall, strong frame, he looked like a demon straight out of Rodwin’s hell.
On one side of him stood Lord Torm, and on the other stood a sneering Bertram.
Behind them, Gerard and two guards stood holding torches.
“Roberta,” started Lord Torm. “I turned a blind eye for winters to your depravities. For the sake of your dear mother and then your sister being my daughter by marriage. But both are dead. And you defy the orders of a king.”
“King Pollux gave you a place to stay, and you shirk it off,” added Bertram. “I suppose witches are always ungrateful in the face of true charity.”
To their right, the long channel of spittle was an indolent river of reflected light.
Behind me, I heard the caught breaths of Tessa along with Jade’s and Adelaide’s outright sobbing. “Grandfather!” my niece cried out, and out of the corner of my eye, I saw her step towards them.
“No,” I spoke harshly. “Adelaide, do not go to him.” I threw out an arm as if to bar her, but I was far enough away that my fingertips only grazed her.
Torm frowned and shook his head at me. “You have always wanted to take everyone down with you. You certainly tried with my son. Give me my kin, his child. Come, girl.”
“Go to your grandfather,” Starling crooned. “Save yourself from the vice and sin of your aunt. She will corrupt you to your downfall, child.”
“Niece,” Bertram said, his forefinger lifted at her. “You’ve been led astray, as has my brother, by this woman’s witching.”
“You’ll stay right here with me,” I heard Tessa say. “Right here.”
“It’s five to two,” Evangeline growled to Reed. “They’re all armed, save the priest.”
“Hold,” he replied. “Just hold for now.”
“I am so sick of you lot,” Ilsit complained loudly. “All we’re trying to do is leave. Why must we stay? Can’t you be content feeding the rest of these poor people to the fate’s mouth and let us few go?”
“I told you they knew,” Bertram said to his father.
“Keep your lips sealed, wife,” Gerard barked, his face furious.
“Do not speak to the dead,” Starling corrected, his gaze on Ilsit. “Your wife is among the deceased, captain. And has been for more than a winter. You no longer need to concern yourself with her.”
“He never concerned himself with me when I was alive,” drawled Ilsit. “Honestly, Gerard, it’s not my fault your prick didn’t work right.”
Gerard hurled an obscenity at her, and Ilsit hurled one right back.
Starling reprimanded him again about communing with a dead woman.
“We have to kill them all,” Bertram pronounced, arm swinging out at us. “They know what they know, and I’ve had it with the witch. She’s been asking to be set on fire since her girlhood.”
“Do not speak that word,” Starling bit out at the younger lord.
Bertram began to protest that he had made a mistake, and Torm shouted over him that the priest’s every directive was sacrosanct.
Then a tiny object flew through the air, sailing between our two groups, and hit Gerard in the face. He screamed in pain and fell back, his cresset torch crashing next to him and rolling in a circle.
“Get that torch off the ground!” Starling shrieked. “Get it off the ground!”
Bertram and Torm both swore and turned to chase the rolling torch.
One of the two guards bent to help Gerard up while the other also scrambled after the torch.
Starling was still shrill and frantic about the torch.
Ilsit was laughing. “I knew I took up smoking for a reason.”
I realized she had whipped Magda’s old bone pipe into Gerard’s face and that the sharp shank of it must have stabbed him.
“Now,” I heard Reed softly say, and then louder, “follow Evangeline.” Then, with the grace of a wildcat and the slant of a wolf, he bounded across the distance between our two groups, past our enemies and reached the door in the wall.
He robustly shoved the key in the lock and cranked it open, shouting out, “Run!”
I turned to Fox and shoved her and a whimpering Daisy in front of me, reaching back to grasp Jade’s arm and pull her along.
Next to us, Tessa was half carrying, half dragging Adelaide.
Ilsit had charged ahead with what looked to be a blunt foraging knife held in front of her.
She was on the heels of Evangeline, who—her broadsword drawn—had put herself between our party and theirs.
The clang of the lady warrior’s blade against Bertram’s resounded angrily in the chamber. Bertram had seen Reed’s sprint for the door and picked himself up off the ground, drawn his own weapon, and thrown himself at Evangeline.
“Stay behind me,” Evangeline hollered as she traded blows with an irate, cursing Bertram, who called her unnatural and heathen.
“Stop them!” Torm called to the guards, who were pulling Gerard to stand.
Starling’s eyes were lit by the torches, all three now raised again. “Do not let the witch escape!”
Gerard shook off his guards and pulled a dagger from his belt.
He flung himself towards Reed, who was holding the weighty door to the outside open for us, doing the work of two men, and indefensible.
His dagger slipped into Reed’s chest, the cut shallow, thwarted by Reed’s leather jerkin and by Reed’s twisting his upper body away at the last moment.
One of my hands was still grasping at the back of Fox’s clothes, pushing her ahead while I angled the majority of my body outward to protect her. My other hand remained yanking at Jade behind me.
“Go!” I cried and roughly shoved Fox towards the opening.
I was somewhat aware of her tripping forward into the short tunnel of the city wall’s thickness, trying to cradle Daisy who was yelping now, Jade in their wake.
I somewhat saw a shouting Ilsit grab the front of Adelaide’s dress and practically swing her into the doorway, Tessa still holding the girl and stumbling after her.
My mind, as if from a far-off distance, was aware of the four of them making it through the door.
A part of me rejoiced. I understood that Evangeline was cornered, her sword held out, and being slowly backed to the edge of the tongue’s spittle river by Bertram and Gerard’s two guards advancing on her, each of them carrying one of the three cresset torches.
I understood that Starling was still shouting about my escape, that Torm was hollering at his son to leave the woman alive for questioning.
But the rest of me just saw the man with part of a dagger in his chest, unable to fight for himself as he strained to keep the door open, leaning his full weight into the great slab of iron and wood, one arm lifted to push away Gerard who was attacking again, this time with a full sword raised.
“No!” I screamed and, my fists awkward and clumsy, tackled the captain from behind. I screamed the word “no” over and over while I clambered onto his body, bringing him down with me to the ground.
Gerard twisted before we reached it and, despite dropping his sword, was able to catch me on the jaw with a half-formed fist.
Reed lost his purchase on the floor and stumbled, the door swinging shut behind him. “Get the key,” he gasped out to Ilsit, pulling the dagger from his chest where blood blossomed. “Don’t let them get the key, Ilsit.”
She lurched to the door and ripped the key from the lock.
Reed righted himself and flipped the dagger from blade to handle in the air, taking it so that the blade was held downward and fell onto Gerard, pushing me off of the captain.
My hand, raised to strike out at Gerard, caught Reed on the chest briefly, my palm slick with blood when I fell away from him.
“You don’t touch her,” I heard him say, and he plunged the dagger towards the captain’s throat. He nearly had the captain. But as he brought the knife down, Gerard, his hand scrabbling on the white floor, found his sword, swung it upward, and smacked it loudly on the side of Reed’s head.
Reed’s body pitched over, and the arc of the dagger only danced over the captain’s neck.
Gerard pushed himself along the floor, away from the door where Ilsit stood with her knife out. “You miserable shrew,” he said as he rose to his feet, aided by Torm still shouting for Bertram to leave Evangeline alive.
“Surrender, filth,” Bertram was snarling at her.
“Get the witch!” Starling still roared. “Get the midwife!”
Reed, winded from the slamming of steel into his head, his chest still spilling blood, was on his feet and amazingly still holding the dagger. He put himself in front of where I was scrambling to be upright next to Ilsit at the door.
“Halt!” Father Starling shouted, his hands up.
Bertram and the two guards froze.
Evangeline’s heel dangled over the edge of the river, her body bent forward in a half crouch to give her balance and keep her from tipping in.
“Don’t you move those torches any closer,” Father Starling said, and there was something in his voice close to breaking.
Next to the priest, Torm and Gerard stood, swords drawn, eyes on Reed.
“Let us finish this,” said Starling, his eyes crazed, head turning between the two groupings of people. “The two foreigners and the dead woman can go. Just leave us the witch.”
“Never,” said Reed. “I’ll die before one of you touches her again.”