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.She’d heard his fury and the blow that silenced it.The barking boomed out again and she started with the pain it brought her.Could she mistake his bark for another’s?No, this was no mistake.That was Bula’s bark.For the first time, something stronger than hope stirred in her.Bula was alive? He was alive.Nicholas hadn’t murdered him, and with Bula on his side, William had a fighting chance.The dog was large and loyal, and an almost human intelligence moved the animal to perform.If Bula had found them, could Lord Peter and his army?They could.At least, she thought they could.She heard the distant drumbeat of horses, and she leaned forward.Was it the soldiers from Burke? As they rode across the plain, the clank and rattle of armor and the shouting of many men obscured any individual voices.It wasn’t until they halted and called a challenge that one voice predominated, but it wasn’t Lord Peter.Nor Charles, nor any person she’d ever heard before.Clenching her fist, she strained to to hear, wondering if William was in greater danger now.What could she think? What did she want to think? Any army coming to Cran Castle now must be hostile; ergo, they were an ally of hers.But in these unsettled times, perhaps the army came to conquer, and innocent William, caught in the middle, would count for nothing.He’d better have a care for himself now.One by one, the men attacking William dropped their swords and stared out their open drawbridge.“A great force,” one man-at-arms muttered, his voice carrying in the sudden silence.The dust raised by the horses speeding across the plains awed them.“No foot soldiers,” another said.“A greater force of knights than I have ever seen.”Neither William nor Bula took more than a moment to gloat before they returned to their work with sword and tooth.The dog had positioned himself beside William, snatching at the legs within his reach.Bodies had piled up around the dog who so deftly avoided the swords aimed at him.For William’s part, he’d parried the most obvious blows to Bula and taken advantage of the attackers’ preoccupation with defending their feet.The bodies piled deep around his side, too, and now he watched for a chance to leap out of the circle and find Nicholas.Beside him, the drawbridge gave a crack and leaped, then fell back.Looking up, William saw the mercenary commander twisting the great wheel that operated the entrance.William roared with rage, the knight looked down, and smirked.Leaning all his weight on the mechanism, the lone knight slowly inched the heavy drawbridge up.Fresh blood coursed through William’s veins, and he leapfrogged over the groaning men-at-arms with Bula at his heels.William ran up the tiny stairway to the landing while Bula stopped halfway and kept the pursuing men at bay.The mercenary cranked and watched from the corner of his eye.William reached the top before the knight could close that gate, and he waved the weapon in his hand.“I have your sword,” he called.“Come and get it.”The knight loosened his grip on the wheel and the drawbridge rattled back down.“I have no need for my sword.” He snatched a lance off the arsenal on the wall and pointed it at William’s chest.He charged, and William barely stepped aside, teetering on the edge of the narrow landing.He whacked the lance in half with the edge of his blade, but the knight had already retreated, securing a mace for himself and swinging it like a man who knew what he was doing.Its spiked iron head could be deadly in such small quarters, bludgeoning with indifferent conviction, and William grinned.He liked this knight.He was inventive, loyal, willing to fight.“You’re a mercenary, eh?” William asked.“Aye.” The mace swung in wide circles.“There’s a huge force outside who’ll soon be inside, and Lord Nicholas, I promise, will be in no position to pay your wages.”The mace drooped a bit.“I don’t betray the lord who pays me,” the knight said tersely, but William’s gaze was on that mace.“He’s a treacherous, shifty, lying man who has deserted friendship and personal honor.You’re not bound to him, for he’d never do more than toss you to the dogs.” The mace’s swing diminished to a half circle.“And the dogs,” William jerked his head toward the stair where Bula held sway, “are fearsome.”The sway of the mace creaked to a halt.William kept his eyes on the spiked head of the mace and eased toward the gate’s closing mechanism.Jamming the wooden shield deep into the gears, he effectively disabled it.The mercenary watched, and William turned to him.“Find me when this is over.I have uses for fighters such as you.” Turning, he called Bula and ordered him to stay.“Bula will protect you from my father’s vengeance, if you protect Bula from the swords.”Running lightly down the stairs, William glanced around.The bailey roiled with armed men astride destriers.He spotted his father, Raymond, and another man.A leader; big, bold, shouting the commands that directed the battle.Who was he?William had no time to stop and question.Eager now, he raced toward the keep, knowing he’d find Nicholas there.The castle relied on its position on the cliffs for defense.The outer curtain wall hung almost over the edge on the three sides; the gatehouse opened onto the plain.Within the walls, only one bailey surrounded the keep, and William smiled with grim satisfaction when he found the door to the keep open.Perhaps that should worry him, but he knew Nicholas was such a poor strategist, such a dreadful excuse for a knight, that he’d never planned for the enemy inside the walls.All his men fought at the gate; all of them.William had seen the steady stream of mercenaries who emerged from the keep.Only Nicholas cowered within, surrounded by the weapons he’d never bothered to practice with; the weapons that would not save him.William entered the keep and glanced around.The abrupt change from light to dark made it difficult to adjust, but no one lurked in the entry.Running on the balls of his feet, he mounted the stairs, his sword at readiness.Before he entered the great hall, he paused and listened.Nothing.Only the sound of fighting outside disturbed the silence.He strode into the room.The fire burned on the hearth, the table was set for dinner, but nary a soul stirred.All the servants, all the folk of the castle were gone.But Nicholas wasn’t.William’s instincts tuned to the stones of the keep.The entrance to the undercroft drew him like a magnet; it was the entrance to the dungeon, too, and Nicholas’s only remaining hope.William knew Nicholas would try to secure the prisoners he thought he held for ransom.Had Nicholas already discovered his fettered birds had flown the cage?Moving softly, William started down into the dusk of the undercroft.A lone torch sputtered in reluctant illumination.The trapdoor that hid the dungeon lay close to the foot of the spiral stairs, and William listened for the crash of its closing.It didn’t come, and he wondered for the first time if Nicholas really lurked there.Did Nicholas have a secret tunnel? Had he slipped out the postern gate? Had he lowered himself into the dungeon and found their escape route?William remembered the climb up the cliff and smiled a most unpleasant smile.That, he thought, would be a fitting justice.But rounding the last corner, he came face to face with his nemesis.“At last,” he said, his teeth bared through his beard.“At last, indeed.” Nicholas lifted the sword he held and pointed it at William’s throat.“This time I will finish you.You see, I have the advantage.”Nicholas gleamed with chain mail.His sword was fully half again as long as William’s.His belt sagged with the combined weight of mace and dagger, and he held a shield that covered him from his knees to his neck.William laughed out loud.“’Tis not arms that make the man,” he jeered, “but ability.”“Then I shall win,” Nicholas replied, too quickly.William snorted [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
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.She’d heard his fury and the blow that silenced it.The barking boomed out again and she started with the pain it brought her.Could she mistake his bark for another’s?No, this was no mistake.That was Bula’s bark.For the first time, something stronger than hope stirred in her.Bula was alive? He was alive.Nicholas hadn’t murdered him, and with Bula on his side, William had a fighting chance.The dog was large and loyal, and an almost human intelligence moved the animal to perform.If Bula had found them, could Lord Peter and his army?They could.At least, she thought they could.She heard the distant drumbeat of horses, and she leaned forward.Was it the soldiers from Burke? As they rode across the plain, the clank and rattle of armor and the shouting of many men obscured any individual voices.It wasn’t until they halted and called a challenge that one voice predominated, but it wasn’t Lord Peter.Nor Charles, nor any person she’d ever heard before.Clenching her fist, she strained to to hear, wondering if William was in greater danger now.What could she think? What did she want to think? Any army coming to Cran Castle now must be hostile; ergo, they were an ally of hers.But in these unsettled times, perhaps the army came to conquer, and innocent William, caught in the middle, would count for nothing.He’d better have a care for himself now.One by one, the men attacking William dropped their swords and stared out their open drawbridge.“A great force,” one man-at-arms muttered, his voice carrying in the sudden silence.The dust raised by the horses speeding across the plains awed them.“No foot soldiers,” another said.“A greater force of knights than I have ever seen.”Neither William nor Bula took more than a moment to gloat before they returned to their work with sword and tooth.The dog had positioned himself beside William, snatching at the legs within his reach.Bodies had piled up around the dog who so deftly avoided the swords aimed at him.For William’s part, he’d parried the most obvious blows to Bula and taken advantage of the attackers’ preoccupation with defending their feet.The bodies piled deep around his side, too, and now he watched for a chance to leap out of the circle and find Nicholas.Beside him, the drawbridge gave a crack and leaped, then fell back.Looking up, William saw the mercenary commander twisting the great wheel that operated the entrance.William roared with rage, the knight looked down, and smirked.Leaning all his weight on the mechanism, the lone knight slowly inched the heavy drawbridge up.Fresh blood coursed through William’s veins, and he leapfrogged over the groaning men-at-arms with Bula at his heels.William ran up the tiny stairway to the landing while Bula stopped halfway and kept the pursuing men at bay.The mercenary cranked and watched from the corner of his eye.William reached the top before the knight could close that gate, and he waved the weapon in his hand.“I have your sword,” he called.“Come and get it.”The knight loosened his grip on the wheel and the drawbridge rattled back down.“I have no need for my sword.” He snatched a lance off the arsenal on the wall and pointed it at William’s chest.He charged, and William barely stepped aside, teetering on the edge of the narrow landing.He whacked the lance in half with the edge of his blade, but the knight had already retreated, securing a mace for himself and swinging it like a man who knew what he was doing.Its spiked iron head could be deadly in such small quarters, bludgeoning with indifferent conviction, and William grinned.He liked this knight.He was inventive, loyal, willing to fight.“You’re a mercenary, eh?” William asked.“Aye.” The mace swung in wide circles.“There’s a huge force outside who’ll soon be inside, and Lord Nicholas, I promise, will be in no position to pay your wages.”The mace drooped a bit.“I don’t betray the lord who pays me,” the knight said tersely, but William’s gaze was on that mace.“He’s a treacherous, shifty, lying man who has deserted friendship and personal honor.You’re not bound to him, for he’d never do more than toss you to the dogs.” The mace’s swing diminished to a half circle.“And the dogs,” William jerked his head toward the stair where Bula held sway, “are fearsome.”The sway of the mace creaked to a halt.William kept his eyes on the spiked head of the mace and eased toward the gate’s closing mechanism.Jamming the wooden shield deep into the gears, he effectively disabled it.The mercenary watched, and William turned to him.“Find me when this is over.I have uses for fighters such as you.” Turning, he called Bula and ordered him to stay.“Bula will protect you from my father’s vengeance, if you protect Bula from the swords.”Running lightly down the stairs, William glanced around.The bailey roiled with armed men astride destriers.He spotted his father, Raymond, and another man.A leader; big, bold, shouting the commands that directed the battle.Who was he?William had no time to stop and question.Eager now, he raced toward the keep, knowing he’d find Nicholas there.The castle relied on its position on the cliffs for defense.The outer curtain wall hung almost over the edge on the three sides; the gatehouse opened onto the plain.Within the walls, only one bailey surrounded the keep, and William smiled with grim satisfaction when he found the door to the keep open.Perhaps that should worry him, but he knew Nicholas was such a poor strategist, such a dreadful excuse for a knight, that he’d never planned for the enemy inside the walls.All his men fought at the gate; all of them.William had seen the steady stream of mercenaries who emerged from the keep.Only Nicholas cowered within, surrounded by the weapons he’d never bothered to practice with; the weapons that would not save him.William entered the keep and glanced around.The abrupt change from light to dark made it difficult to adjust, but no one lurked in the entry.Running on the balls of his feet, he mounted the stairs, his sword at readiness.Before he entered the great hall, he paused and listened.Nothing.Only the sound of fighting outside disturbed the silence.He strode into the room.The fire burned on the hearth, the table was set for dinner, but nary a soul stirred.All the servants, all the folk of the castle were gone.But Nicholas wasn’t.William’s instincts tuned to the stones of the keep.The entrance to the undercroft drew him like a magnet; it was the entrance to the dungeon, too, and Nicholas’s only remaining hope.William knew Nicholas would try to secure the prisoners he thought he held for ransom.Had Nicholas already discovered his fettered birds had flown the cage?Moving softly, William started down into the dusk of the undercroft.A lone torch sputtered in reluctant illumination.The trapdoor that hid the dungeon lay close to the foot of the spiral stairs, and William listened for the crash of its closing.It didn’t come, and he wondered for the first time if Nicholas really lurked there.Did Nicholas have a secret tunnel? Had he slipped out the postern gate? Had he lowered himself into the dungeon and found their escape route?William remembered the climb up the cliff and smiled a most unpleasant smile.That, he thought, would be a fitting justice.But rounding the last corner, he came face to face with his nemesis.“At last,” he said, his teeth bared through his beard.“At last, indeed.” Nicholas lifted the sword he held and pointed it at William’s throat.“This time I will finish you.You see, I have the advantage.”Nicholas gleamed with chain mail.His sword was fully half again as long as William’s.His belt sagged with the combined weight of mace and dagger, and he held a shield that covered him from his knees to his neck.William laughed out loud.“’Tis not arms that make the man,” he jeered, “but ability.”“Then I shall win,” Nicholas replied, too quickly.William snorted [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]