Rise of the Defender (133 page)

     A harried-looking servant told him that
Lord Christopher and Lord Marcus were still going at it in the opposite end of
the castle, and furthermore told him that they had destroyed everything in
their path. But they were still remarkably whole, considering the battle had
been raging for over four hours. With a sigh, Richard decided to see for
himself.

     He passed Iris as she descended the stairs
and the woman nearly prostrated herself at his feet.

     “Beg pardon, my lord king, but is Lady
Dustin well? I have not seen her since this morning when she....”

     “She is resting in her room,” Richard said,
distracted. As he moved past the woman, she stopped him.

     “She is not in her room, your grace, and
neither is Christin,” Iris told him. “I presumed they were with you.”

     He paused and looked at her. “She went up
to her room three hours ago, woman. I have not seen her since.”

     Iris' eyes bugged slightly. “Do you
suppose... she could not have done something foolish to herself or the child?
She was quite distraught with everything that has gone on.”

     A light went on in Richard's eye. A strange
gleam, the beginning of an idea. He suddenly knew how to end the battle, at
least for the moment. Mayhap it would be enough time to settle the differences less
violently. He fleetingly wondered if Lady Dustin had planned something like
this all along.

     “Have you searched other rooms for her?” he
demanded.

     “Nay, sire, I have not,” Iris said. “But I
shall go this minute and....”

     “Nay,” he put out his hand to stop her, his
eyes glittering thoughtfully. “Return to her room and see if anything is
missing. I shall lead the search for Lady Dustin.”

     Iris scooted off and Richard marched away
purposefully, heading to the other end of Somerhill where the combatants were
fighting.  He found them in an area that housed the chapel, with dank cellars
and storage rooms that houses phantoms at this time of night.  There was very
little light and he was surprised that Christopher and Marcus hadn’t hacked
themselves to death because of it.

     “Cease!” Richard roared from the top of the
stairs.

     At the bottom of the flight, Marcus was
dealing Christopher a heavy blow, but both men came to a jerky halt. Weaving
and panting, they faced the king.

     “Lady Dustin is missing,” Richard said
gravely. “We must search for her now; we have no idea how long she has been
gone.”

     He made it sound more severe that it was on
purpose; he wanted the two stubborn men to think of something other than
themselves. Properly distracted, he hoped they would forget about their mortal
combat.

     “Gone? What do you mean gone?” Christopher
breathed heavily. “Where could she go?”

     Marcus raised his faceplate, his face
dripping with perspiration and lined with fatigue. “There are a thousand places
to hide in this labyrinth.”

     Richard raised an eyebrow. “Or a thousand
windows to throw oneself from,” he said. “Honestly, you two are the most
selfish bastards I have ever seen. Did either of you stop to think how this was
affecting her?”

     Christopher raised his faceplate, a trickle
of blood coming from his mouth. “She wouldn't do anything so foolish. She must
be hiding somewhere.”

     “Has anyone checked the north tower? She
loved the view of Somerhill from there,” Marcus' sword was lowered and he was
moving for the stairs.

     “That's not all, good lords,” Richard saved
the best for last, hoping that would jolt them into action. “Christin is gone,
too.”

     Christopher froze a moment, as did Marcus.
Then, they glanced at each other apprehensively and Richard's heart soared.

    
Bravo, Lady Dustin, wherever you are.

***

     A search of the entire castle turned up
nothing. It was close to midnight and Richard was gravely concerned. He had
honestly believed that she would turn up, but it soon became obvious that she
was not within the confines of the keep.

     Christopher and Marcus were men possessed;
searching every inch of the castle with complete disregard for their hatred of
one another. It was as Richard had hoped, only the circumstances had grown
quite concerning. He had been sure that Lady Dustin had gone to some outlying
corner of the castle to weep, but when hours of searching failed to produce her
or the babe, he felt guilty that he had even let her out of his sight.

     Christopher was the one to discover that
Hercules was gone and his heart sank. But that was quickly followed by
explosive anger and immediately, he sought out Marcus.

     “Her horse is gone,” he boomed, marching up
on Richard and Marcus. A massive mailed fist lashed out and caught Marcus right
on the jaw, sending the man staggering. Richard put himself once again between
the two of them.

     “Chris!” the king snapped in warning.

     Marcus spun around, his hand on his jaw and
charging back toward Christopher, only to be halted by Dud and the king. His
eyes were blazing with fury.

     “You goddamn bastard, this is all your
fault,” Christopher raged. “If you had only kept your bloody hands to yourself,
none of this would have happened. You went after Dustin like a dog goes after a
bitch in heat.”

     “Christopher!” Richard shouted again; he
was not in a pleasant position between two huge, huffing men. “Shut your mouth.
You are not making this any easier.”

     Marcus' eyes narrowed, ignoring Richard's
command. “To the devil with you,” he seethed. “You never cared for her until I
showed interest. I loved her from the start, which is something you failed to
do.”

     Christopher put his hands out but Edward
yanked him back roughly, assisted by Nicholas. They pulled and pushed the two
men apart, tension and uneasiness flowing through all of them. It was
frightening to think the whole situation was so desperately out of control.

     “So she is gone and has taken the babe with
her,” Richard said loudly, trying to divert their attentions from each other.
“Marcus, this is your land. Where could she have gone?”

     Marcus sighed, attempting to control his
fury. “I do not know, sire. She was not out of the castle very much. She does
not know the terrain well.”

     “Is it possible that she is trying to
return to Lioncross?” Richard wondered aloud.

     Christopher shook off his knights, running
his fingers through his hair as he, too, struggled for calm. “As possible as
anything else,” he said. “We must search for her immediately.”

     “Agreed,” Richard replied quickly.
“Assemble your men, baron, and set to the road south. Marcus, gather your
troops and send them in search of your land; every nook and hovel. I shall join
Christopher on his trek south.”

     Orders delivered, there was nothing more to
do but carry them out. Making sure Christopher and Marcus kept a distance
between them, the men of Richard's command went quickly to do the king's
bidding.

     Christopher was so tired he was nearly ill,
but he ignored it. His wife and daughter were missing and he had to find them,
no matter what physical toll it took on him. He cursed Dustin under his breath
for being so foolish even as his heart twisted with agony. Richard had been
right; he and Marcus had been selfish and had given little regard for Dustin's
emotions. Edward had tried to warn him, too, but he had ignored hm. The only
person to blame for this was him, and he knew it.

     His horse saddled, he mounted up with his
knights and charged into the bailey just as Marcus and his men were preparing
to depart the gates.

     Christopher stared across the bailey at
Marcus, his guilt overwhelming him. He was a rational man, but he had acted
most irrationally and unreasonably, and he was ashamed. He had let his emotions
rule him and the results had been less than pleasant. He wondered regretfully
if he could ever right the wrongs he had committed, not against Marcus, but
against his wife and his king.

     The fact also remained that Marcus’
marriage to Dustin was not covert, nor was it betrayal. With Christopher dead,
Marcus moved to take his place. Had the situation been reversed, Christopher
would have done the same. The only treasonous act, and a grave one at that, was
that Marcus had bedded his wife at Windsor. Any other acts, he could forgive,
but he doubted he could ever forgive Marcus that.

     Slowly, he dismounted his charger and made
his way over to Marcus.

     Marcus eyed him warily, as he should have.
Christopher shot an angry glare to Dud as the man tried to intervene between
the two of them, then crooked his finger at Marcus to join him in a private
conference.

     Marcus did not move. Christopher sighed,
unstrapped his sword, and let it fall to the ground. Moving away from the
weapon, he raised his hands as if to show Marcus he was unarmed and tried
again. With the second beckon, Marcus responded.

     “See here, Marcus,” Christopher said wearily.
“This has gone too far. Dustin may be in grave danger and I will admit it is
because of me. I do not care if you or I die, but I certainly do not want her
placed in jeopardy. I will not fight you for her anymore; I just want her to be
happy. If it is with you, or with me, I shall allow her to make her own choice.
I have put her through too much already and driven her to this. I am finished
with this.”

     Marcus was harsh, controlled. “That is not
fair. You know she will want to go with you.”

     “Not necessarily,” Christopher replied.
“She may hate me tremendously for all of the pain and grief I have caused her
and quite possibly does not want to have anything more to do with me. Her
leaving is a good indication of that.”

     Marcus looked at him a moment. “All right,
then,” he said slowly. “I would agree to those terms.”

     “If it is me, no more protesting from you,”
Christopher pointed his finger at him. “And if it is you, I shall bow out
quietly. You shall never hear from me again.”

     Marcus nodded stiffly. “Agreed.”

     They parted and went back to their steeds,
and Christopher found he was a good deal more fatigued than he had been just
moments earlier. It took him a moment to realize that, for the first time in
his life, he was putting someone else's needs before his. He could not make
Dustin miserable anymore; whatever would make her happy would make him happy as
well. Just as long as she was healthy and safe, it did not matter who she was
married to. He was willing to make the sacrifice simply to have her returned.

CHAPTER FIFTY TWO

     Dustin, remarkably, wasn't the least bit
tired as Hercules loped along through the darkness of the night. Christin, long
since fed and asleep, curled against her mother's chest.

     Dustin knew basically where she was going; she
had a good sense of direction and remembered this as the same road she and
Marcus had traveled from Lioncross. Wiltshire was more westerly, but she
guessed she had another day of traveling before she could make the directional
turn. She would stop and ask someone as she drew closer.

     Sherwood Forrest was a dark, scary place,
loaded with ghosts and phantoms and bandits. Dustin tried not to think on it as
she cantered along the road, not daring to glance into the trees for fear she
would see something terrifying. Especially in the dark; it was frightening, but
she focused ahead and ignored her superstitions. She was on the northern tip of
the massive forest and had at least a day's travel before she could steer clear
of it.

     She wondered what had happened back at
Somerhill.  Her heart tightened with anguish when she thought of the needless
deaths that had occurred because of her. Almost since the very first, she had
heard of how Christopher had changed and how the once-mighty ring of knights
had been driven to fight and quarrel.

     Why hadn't she seen it before? She was a
horrible influence, a wicked woman to have divided the mighty as she had. There
had been too much pain and destruction going on around her, too much confusion.
Mayhap leaving wasn't the wisest decision, but it was the only thing she could
think to do. She had to get away, but her love for Christopher was making her
question her decision with every passing mile. To be so close to him and then
to be separated again was like a dagger in her gut, but she forced herself to
believe it was a necessary choice.

     Tears filled her eyes as she loped into the
night - tears for her love lost, tears for her future, for herself.

***

     Christopher and Richard took the southern
road, riding into the night. They knew they were on the right track when one of
the scouts identified Hercules' hoof prints, and they immediately sent word
back to Somerhill. Christopher knew that Marcus would catch up to them in a
matter of hours and his jealously was fed, but he controlled himself. He wished
Marcus would just stay the hell back at his keep, but he knew his former friend
would do no such thing.