Chapter Fifteen
Kirk faced off against Spencer beneath the silver moon, blade upon blade, will against will. And from the look in Spencer’ eyes, Kirk knew it would not be an easy fight.
“So you bring her into the night to feed her lies against me.” Kirk shook his head slowly. “I once considered you my friend, Spencer. I can see that I was mistaken.”
Spencer did not waver. His hand was steady, his broadsword against Kirk’s. “You were not mistaken, my lord. But there are times when friendship pales in comparison to desire. And in response to your accusation, I did not feed the lady lies against you. Nothing I have said has been untrue.”
Kirk regarded him carefully, his words directed at Mara. “Has he been bold against you, lass?”
Terrified of what was to come, Mara shook her head. “Nay, Kirk. He never touched me.”
“But he has tried to turn you against me.”
Tension filled the air. And Mara knew, once the battle started, it would only end when death claimed one of the combatants. And the thought that Kirk might fall victim scared her to death.
Quickly, she moved to his side, a gentle hand on the arm that held the sword. “He could never turn me against you,” she said softly. “Please come back to the hall with me. I want to dance.”
“In good time, lass,” he said steadily. “After I take care of your suitor.”
“I do not want you to ‘take care’ of him.” She tugged on his arm. “I want you to come with me, now. Please?”
Kirk moved away from her, placing her out of the line of fire. “Return to the hall and find Niles,” he told her. “Tell him that I have need of him.”
Mara watched the men tense, preparing for the first strike. “Nay!” she cried. “Kirk, please do not! I promise I shall…!”
“There will be rules established, my lord.” Spencer interrupted Mara’s pleas. He sounded so terribly cold. “To the death.”
“As expected.”
“No mercy.”
“None given.”
“And the lady belongs to the winner.”
“The lady belongs to me.”
Spencer cocked an eyebrow, watching Kirk as the man circled around, bringing them further and further away from Mara. When the blows started, they would be hard and furious and if she happened to be in the way, the results could be deadly.
“If I win, my lord, she will belong to me.”
Kirk continued to move back, away from the wall lest he be trapped against it. Spencer’ blade was still poised against Kirk’s as he followed the man’s movements, his young face determined and fearless.
“You shall not win.”
The first blow came heavy, sparks flying into the damp night air.
Mara screamed with fear as Kirk plowed into Spencer with an unearthly strength.
Knowing she had been forgotten, she did not try to stop the battle.
She suspected there was only one man who had a chance of bringing about a bloodless cessation.
Turning on her heel, she raced for the keep as fast as her legs could carry her.
The men locked in combat never saw her leave.
Spencer was meeting Kirk’s onslaught admirably, but in truth he was having a difficult time.
Kirk was larger, stronger, and had the advantage.
But Spencer was young and quick, providing a reluctant target for Kirk’s rage.
Sparks from the broadswords burst against the backdrop of the dead garden as the battle raged.
Kirk backed Spencer against the small bench overlooking the pond. But the young knight deftly leapt over the seat, sloshing through the water with Kirk in pursuit. The noise was deafening as broadswords met with each other, the old bench, and in one case several stalks of dead foxgloves.
A few servants had heard the commotion and came to watch, joined by several soldiers.
It wasn’t often that they were treated to a true swordfight, with the grace and skill that made the spectacle exciting to watch.
But it was also apparent that the stakes of this match were high, higher still when Kirk landed a heavy blow to Spencer’ armorless forearm.
Blood streamed from the wound, sprinkling the ground with every move.
“Why do not…” Spencer grunted as he countered Kirk’s thrust. “… you simply leave the lady to a younger man. Do you truly think you can…” he grunted again as he narrowly avoided being gored. “… make her happy?”
Kirk would not be distracted with chatter. With a growl, he lunged for Spencer, anticipating the man’s reaction and thereby countering. The result saw Spencer stabbed in the shoulder.
“You have no idea what you’re saying,” he breathed, taking a step back as a wounded Spencer took the offensive. “We are very happy. More so after I marry her. Why couldn’t you have simply left her alone?”
“Because I want her.” Spencer backed Kirk against a cluster of dead daisy bushes. Kirk simply plowed through the bramble, fending off the younger knight’s energetic blows. “When you saw her for the first time, did you not feel the same?”
“I did.”
“And if she had been involved with another man but not yet betrothed, would you have still pursued her?”
The vicious thrusts slowed, coming to an unsteady halt. Panting and sweating, the men stared at one another.
“Mayhap,” Kirk said quietly. In truth, he would have done exactly what Spencer had done. “But tell me; if it were you she was involved with and I attempted to woo her away from you, would you not react as I have?”
Spencer’ expression tightened. “I would have killed you.”
There was nothing more to be said. The swords came up again.
*
The great hall was warm and smoky, smelling of meat and dogs.
Mara raced into the hall, searching frantically for Lord le Vay.
But the only familiar face she saw was that of Lady Lily, seated at the head table with her relatives.
All jealousy for the woman aside, Mara pushed her way through the crowd of people and servants.
“Where is your father?” she demanded breathlessly.
Lily looked shocked. “I… I believe he has gone to his solar with my uncle. Is something wrong, Lady Mara?”
Mara realized she was very close to tears. And Lady Lily’s kind eyes somehow intensified her anguish. “Kirk… he and… oh, I must find your father!”
Lily did not question her further. It was apparent that something was very, very wrong. “Then I shall take you to him immediately.”
They ran from the hall. Lily led her through the tall, narrow foyer and into a smaller corridor. To their left a warm room beckoned, scented of hides and liquor. Lionel was seated before the fire, laughing softly with an older man as his daughter and Mara stumbled into the room.
“Father!” Lily said. “Something is…!”
“It’s Kirk, my lord,” Mara gasped. “He has challenged Spencer and even now they are battling in the garden. You must stop them!”
Lionel leapt from his chair, his bushy eyebrows aloft. “They are battling?” he boomed. “Great Gods! I told Kirk to leave Spencer alone!”
He propelled his girth from the room, leaving Lily and Mara to follow.
Lionel took the long route to the garden, not wanting to enter the great hall and create havoc for his guests with his brusque manner.
Skirting the perimeter of the keep, he passed through a small fortified door and emerged into the bailey.
He could hear the clash of broadswords almost immediately.
Mara hadn’t realized that Lily was holding her hand as they reached the entrance to the garden. Lionel burst through the gate with the fearful ladies in tow, watching in horror as Kirk backed a bloodied Spencer against the wall with merciless strikes.
“Kirk!” he roared. “Enough!”
Kirk immediately came to a halt, breathing heavily as he turned to the source of the shout.
Spencer, seeing that Kirk was distracted, brought up his sword.
But Kirk caught the movement, turning away before the man could spear him deep in the belly.
Instead, the broadsword passed cleanly though the muscle of his torso, just below the ribs.
Had Spencer’ aim been an inch to the right, he would have missed altogether.
Mara screamed as Kirk whirled away from Spencer, bleeding profusely. Lionel rushed forward, putting his rotund body between the two knights.
“Enough, both of you!” he bellowed, his hard gaze on Spencer. “An unfair move, Spencer. You’re too good a knight to indulge in such unethical tactics!”
Spencer pushed himself off the wall, trembling as a result of his blood loss. “It was perfectly legal. My opponent was distracted and, as we know, distraction can be deadly.”
Lionel glared at him. “When I called a halt to this battle, I meant the both of you.” He glanced at Kirk, standing tall and strong in spite of the fact that blood was streaming from his wound. “And you. I told you not to kill Spencer, did I not?”
“He gave me little choice, my lord,” Kirk replied steadily. “I warned him against pursuing the lady and he chose to ignore me.”
Le Vay sighed heavily, looking to his blond-haired captain. “You knew the lady was spoken for and still you pursued her? I find this difficult to comprehend, Spencer.”
Spencer emitted a ragged sigh, wiping the sweat from his brow and gingerly touching the wound in his shoulder. “Some things in the world are worth fighting for, my lord,” he said quietly. “She is one of them.”
Le Vay did not reply for a moment, waiting for Kirk to erupt. But the knight remained silent and Lionel maintained his gaze on the young knight.
“No more, Spencer,” he said, more gently. “It is obvious that you are not meant to have the lady. I would demand you leave her, and Kirk, in peace.”
Spencer eyed his liege before gazing at Kirk. The reluctance, the defiance, was obvious. But the young knight said nothing as he turned away, wearily moving for the gate.