Page 60 of Knight of Chaos
One by one, de Payne’s knights began to yield until only Ingrid and de Payne remained battling. Theobald watched in horror when Ingrid lost her grip on her sword. She quickly swiveled narrowly missing de Payne’s blade aimed at her neck.
“Sword!” she called out and Sir Walter, who was the closest, tossed her his blade.
That she was so readily provided another weapon threw de Payne off, and he stumbled backwards only to find the steel of Ingrid’s blade against his neck.
“Yield,” she jeered, pressing the steel closer to his skin.
“I yield nothing! You cheated when you took your husband’s place. Our battle was to be between the two of us to determine who would rule Calbridge Castle,” de Payne replied.
Ingrid inched her blade closer into his neck. “If that counts as cheating then you cheated as well when you ordered your men to kill us all,” Ingrid growled out. She would in no way say that she had succeeded in claiming her lands because of foul play.
De Payne took hold of her arm in an attempt to dislodge her sword. “Go ahead and kill me. You will make a martyr out of me when I die for King Stephen’s cause,” he demanded whilst tilting his head back further as he awaited the killing blow.
“You think too highly of yourself, de Payne. No one will tell your story or mourn your fate. You are nothing but a petty traitor, and you will soon be forgotten.” The sound of Ingrid’s laughter brought a smile to Theobald’s face. Richard came to stand next to him.
“Shall we interfere?” Richard asked.
A chuckle left him. “Nay. I think she has a handle on the situation,” Theobald replied, crossing his arms over his chest to watch how Ingrid dealt with the traitor. She continued to hold her sword at de Payne’s throat, and he allowed his lady wife to decide the man’s fate.
“Kill me, you damn bitch,” de Payne swore.
A gleam flashed in those hazel eyes that Theobald loved. He expected Ingrid to slit the man’s throat. Instead, she quickly slashed her blade in a downward stroke along the man’s cheek. ’Twas just enough of a wound that he would carry the reminder of her for the rest of his life.
“You are not worth the penance I would need to submit to if I took your worthless life. I will have the satisfaction of knowing that we have beaten you and those loyal to the false king,” she stated as she stood back to see a thin trail of blood running down the man’s face.
Theobald at last came forward. “Men and women of Calbridge. You see before you that we have vanquished our enemy. Any who are loyal to the usurper Stephen will be cast from these gates,” he proclaimed loudly for all to hear. He turned toward Sir Walter. “See that this rubbish is gone from our lands. Take a dozen knights loyal to our cause to ensure they are well past our boundaries.”
“Aye, my lord,” Sir Walter said. He went to de Payne and grabbed him by the edge of his tunic. “Let us away, you worthless cur.”
Theobald gathered Ingrid in his arms as they watched men and horses being led through the bailey and, once the portcullis was raised, out the barbican gate. A cheer rose from the inhabitants of Calbridge as they viewed the enemy leaving their home.
Ingrid brushed her fingertips along his body. “You are hurt.”
“’Tis nothing but a scratch or two,” he murmured kissing the top of her head.
“You let me be the judge of that. We need to find the castle healer,” she whispered, wondering who that might be from all the new faces that began to surround them.
“Later, my love,” Theobald murmured. “For now, let us enjoy this moment and the reward of knowing Calbridge is now ours.”
“Kiss me,” she demanded with a bright smile.
“Never let it be said that I did not adhere to your wishes,” he said in a husky tone. He bent forward and captured her lips as another cheer went up.
They soon became surrounded by those who would now be a part of their lives. Men and women loyal to them and the Empress. ’Twas a good beginning to the story they would someday tell their children.
Chapter Forty-One
Ingrid raced Valoron the outskirts of fields of golden wheat ready for harvest. The serfs were busy preparing for a hard day’s labor but as for Ingrid, she was enjoying the morning away from the duties that would demand her attention at the castle.
She shot a quick glance over her shoulder, hoping to see that Theobald was far behind. He was closer than she would have liked, especially since she could see for herself that her husband held back on the reins of his mount to give her a fighting chance. She supposed she should appreciate his efforts to let her win, but she would rather arrive first at the finishing point on her own merits.
“You are cheating,” she called over her shoulder whilst slapping the leather reins, causing Valor to bolt forward at an even faster pace. She leaned low into the saddle and became one with her horse.
“By giving you a chance to win against me?” Theobald laughed as he easily came abreast of her.
The two horses galloped side by side until Theobald gave a nudge of his knee causing Buttercup to slow. Valor galloped to the finishing line, the victor. Ingrid turned her mount around and watched whilst Theobald and Buttercup trotted forward. Ingrid slid to the ground, looping the reins on a nearby tree branch.
“I won,” she stated with hands on her hips.
